Chances to Change
by muchmadness
Summary: DL, Spoilers for season 5 kind of - nothing specific . Lindsay and Danny try to work out where they stand, in a roundabout sort of way.
1. Chapter 1

**This is set after (SPOILER) Lindsay has a baby. It's kind of my take on it, and it's in the future. The story of how DL got to this point will be revealed in the story as you read, so if you're interested in that just keep an eye out. Hope you like it :)**

* * *

It was difficult for Danny Messer to see his ex-girlfriend making out with another man at the bar. It was even more difficult considering he still considered said ex-girlfriend the love of his life, and that each time her new kissing partner's hand drifted down to her hip, Danny twitched. A visible, painful twitch.

It did not help that Lindsay Monroe was beyond drunk, that she could barely hold her head up without lolling it slightly. It didn't make the situation any less painful for Danny that Lindsay had spent her day working on putting a child molester behind bars, and that she was probably emotionally exhausted, and all she needed was a set of able and willing hands on her body and someone to remind her that she was alive.

As Lindsay lazily, drunkenly lifted one arm over the man's shoulders and tugged him closer to her, Danny picked up a cashew from the little bowl in front of him and chomped down heavily. He grimaced as the man with his tongue thrust down Lindsay's throat proceeded to scoot his barstool all the more closer to Lindsay's, blocking off Danny's view of his ex-girlfriend's face.

Sure, Danny had been a jerk in the past year. Yeah, he'd ignored her and forgotten her birthday, and there was the irreversible fact that he'd cheated on Lindsay with his dead friend's mother. None of that seemed to dull the pain Danny felt as he saw the kiss break, Lindsay's glazed eyes part gently, and heard the murmur of the man in front of her.

Lindsay giggled drunkenly, nearly toppling off her barstool. "Oh, Harry," she snickered, touching his shoulder gently, "you're _so_ funny."

Danny had trouble recognizing her actions. He'd seen Lindsay drunk a few times, after drinks with the team, after dates at his place that had run late into the night. But he'd never, ever seen her act like this. She was almost … he hated to say it … ditzy. Lindsay was not a ditz. The woman who could rattle off the average velocity of a standard sized airplane, unearth myths about obscure flowers from thin air, and manage to refrain from throwing blame around like a wild victim when betrayal seemed to snap at her from nowhere – that was no ditz.

Danny was mystified as she stood, tottering on her impossibly high heels, and allowed 'Harry' to lead her out the side door of the bar. This was not Lindsay. He stood and walked calmly after them. He looked Lindsay up and down as she walked, unawares, ahead of him. She had on the tiniest skirt he'd ever seen her wear. If he hadn'tve fucked up so badly two months ago, and they'd come to the bar together, he would have suggested she wear something warmer in the cold, November air. Her shirt was barely better – a tube top that shoved her breasts up higher than he'd ever seen them.

_She didn't dress that way for me, _he couldn't help but think angrily, increasing his pace as he trudged after them. They were heading to the parking lot across the street. He watched Lindsay hang tightly to the man's shirt sleeve to keep herself upright. _What am I doing? _He asked himself, _She made her choice here. She's done. Give it up, Messer, you're through._

Yet that didn't seem to deter him any, for he followed the recent couple to a row of cars and watched as 'Harry' pulled out a set of keys. He dropped them with a clank as Lindsay leaned over and kissed him, giggling wildly.

It was the wildness in the laugh that tipped Danny off. It reminded him, once more, that Lindsay was drunk, and also that three of the seven shot glasses on the bar had not been hers. He saw 'Harry' bend down and scoop up the keys. Danny did not miss the way Harry's hand shook, the way the man could barely find the button to unlock the car.

"Lindsay," he called out.

She turned, stunned and struggling to comprehend why Danny was standing there. She laughed another wild giggle, then halted mid-laugh. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Whoozat?" Harry slurred.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Danny asked Lindsay, taking a tentative step forwards.

"'S no one," Lindsay said, staring directly at Danny.

Danny walked calmly over to the couple and, to their surprise, took Lindsay gently by the arm and pulled her over to the side, out of Harry's earshot. "He's drunk," Danny said quietly.

"So 'm I," Lindsay slurred, "And I'm a big girl, Danny."

"Take a cab."

"What?" she snorted.

"Take a fucking cab. I'll call one myself if you want, but if you get into that car with that jerk I'm arresting him for driving under the influence. Understood?" he said, staring directly into her eyes.

She frowned, looking up at him. "Why are you here, Danny?" she asked tiredly. Suddenly she was no longer the ditzy, drunk chick, but the worn out, world weary girl he'd been seeing a lot of lately.

"You need to get a cab," he repeated.

"Baby, you comin'?" Harry yelled from the car.

"No," Lindsay said quietly. Her eyes locked with Danny's, a plea, a question. He met her gaze, fearful that if he broke away, something would be lost forever.

"Can't hear you, babe!" Harry yelled.

"She said no; get lost!" Danny shouted, never breaking his gaze with Lindsay's.

"Your loss," they heard Harry grumble as he hopped into his black SUV and zoomed out of the lot.

"He shouldn't be driving," Danny said. He made no move to prevent it, though.

"I'll call 911," Lindsay said. She took out her cell phone from the little clutch purse she held close to her body. With her sketchy, drunken movements, the phone dropped loudly to the pavement. She bent down to get it, and a catcall sounded from behind her. Danny glared at the two college age boys chattering loudly and gesturing at Lindsay.

He gently helped Lindsay stand upright, then bent and got the phone himself. He handed it to her. "I'll give you a ride home," he offered quietly, gently leading her towards his motorcycle. She swayed slightly, and shivered, suddenly aware of the cold. The spell was broken; the night became real.

Danny quietly slipped off his black leather jacket and subtly dropped it onto her shoulders.

Upon seeing the bike, Lindsay gave a quiet snort. "How am I supposed to ride on that in a skirt?" she asked.

Danny eyed the short skirt, then the bike. "I…"

"I'll figure it out," Lindsay murmured. Danny helped her onto the back and slid in front of her. She stuck her arms through the sleeves of his jacket and zipped it up.

"Hang on tight," he said, handing her a helmet. She popped it onto her head and barely had time to latch onto him before he roared away. The wind cut knives into her face and legs. She wondered how Danny was faring, in his thin blue hoodie. She could feel the heat oozing from his body, and wondered if his skin was the only thing that was warming her.

* * *

"I don't have to come up."

"I want you to."

"Lindsay, I'm fine."

"You're cold. You need something warm."

She seemed to be leading him one hand, but she was leaning so heavily that he wondered if she couldn't stand up by herself. At her door, she turned abruptly and kissed him.

He liked it - that was sure. But she tasted like alcohol. Her body didn't move the way it used to. She tilted her body away from Danny instead of allowing herself to be pressed neatly against him like lego pieces. Her perfume had changed - it was cheaper, faker than her normal, natural scent. And her hands – instead of lingering gently along his body, went straight for his belt buckle. She slipped a hand into his jeans, surprising him so much that he took a step back, breaking the kiss.

She stared at him, vision glazed, heavily falling back onto the door. "What?" she asked, her voice slurred and slightly stunned. "It's not what you want?"

"No," he said, "It's just not like you."

She snorted and turned to open the door. "You ruined my chance of getting any tonight," she said angrily, "First night since the birth I've gotten a babysitter and you have to ruin it –"

"I woulda taken care of the baby," he said weakly. He took a step forwards as she opened the door and stepped into the apartment. "Linds, I'm sorry; don't be mad."

She dropped the clutch purse onto the floor with a clatter. The teenage babysitter sat up roughly from the couch, her glasses askew, her perfect blonde hair sticking up in a cowlick. "Ms. Monroe? You're back already?" she asked in a whiny, high pitched voice.

"Yes, Alexa, I'm back. You took the money from the counter?"

Alexa hid her smile at the heavy slur in Lindsay's voice. "Yes, Ms. Monroe. I can give you back some of it – you came back before one –"

"No, it's fine," Lindsay snapped. "Can you get upstairs OK, or do you want me to walk you?"

"I'm fine," Alexa said, "Oh, the baby was fine except for a little trouble going to sleep. She didn't get to sleep until eight thirty –"

"That's fine, Alexa. You can go."

"Sure, Ms. Monroe," she said happily, and picked up her purse and backpack. She gave a quick, appreciative glance at Danny before leaving the apartment. He ignored, her, watching Lindsay instead. The door clicked behind Alexa. Lindsay immediately walked over to the fridge and opened it, searching for something to drink.

"I woulda babysat. I'm sorry. Look, I'll pay you back for the babysitter."

Lindsay slammed the fridge shut and turned around. "It's not the money!" she shouted.

A low wail sounded from the little room next to Lindsay's, hiccupping and wild.

"Damn it," Lindsay muttered.

"I got it," Danny said gently. He turned and walked into the small bedroom, to the little crib under the window. His daughter lay there, flailing her little limbs around, her pink mouth open in a scream. Danny bent down and lifted her up, placing her head on his shoulder and patting her back in an effort to quiet her. "Shh, shh, honey, Daddy's here."

Celia's tiny fists clutched her father's shirt, her scream assaulting his eardrums. Her cries slowly quieted as Danny rocked her from side to side. "Daddy's here," he said quietly. He kissed her cheek and cupped the back of her little head. "There," he said as her screams slowed to a low hiccup.

Lindsay stomped into the room and handed Danny a warmed bottle. "I tested it already," she said as he started to squirt a little bit of the milk onto his wrist.

"You get something to drink? Some water?" he asked as he cradled Celia in the curve of his arm and teased Celia's lip with the bottle.

"I'm fine," Lindsay mumbled. She kissed Celia's head sweetly, then turned to look up at Danny. "I'm going to bed. Put her in her crib and lock the door on your way out," she said as she turned away. She paused in the doorway and turned to look at Danny quickly, tears starting in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Don't be," he muttered, "I'm not." He watched Celia as her little, pudgy fingers reached up to hold onto the plastic bottle, her little socked feet rubbing the skin of Danny's forearm.

"How's your nose, huh, baby? Still stuffed?" Danny asked in a gentle voice, watching Celia drink her bottle. The baby sniffed in response, a small splash of milk dripping from her mouth. Danny pulled back the bottle, afraid that she would choke. She coughed once, then reached her pudgy hands up for the bottle again.

"Still hungry?" Danny chuckled, giving her the bottle.

She finished the bottle quickly. Danny threw a rag over his shoulder, rested Celia on top of it, and patted her back gently until she burped.

Danny settled himself down in the rocking chair with Celia in his arms. He rocked her back and forth, tracing her features with the tip of his finger. He liked to remind himself that she was his baby, too, that he could see himself in the blue of her eyes, in the roundness of her chin. Sometimes, when he was alone in his too-large apartment, he would pick up the framed picture of Celia he kept by his bed and stare at her face, pink and wrinkled from birth. Sometimes, when he was feeling especially lonely, he would let his eyes follow the picture up to Lindsay, weak and puffy from childbirth, smiling widely at the camera. Stella had taken it. Danny wondered how the smile would be different if he had been the one with the camera.

Celia had long since fallen asleep. Danny continued to rock her until he, too, fell into a deep sleep, rocking Celia.

* * *

Lindsay woke to a blinding pain in her head. She stumbled, dizzy, into the bathroom, dragged out the aspirin from the cabinet above the sink with a loud rattle, and downed two pills. After waiting a moment, she dropped a third into her palm and dry swallowed it.

She stumbled out of the bathroom, trying to remember if she'd kissed Celia goodnight. She walked into her daughter's room to find Danny, holding the infant, his head tipped back on the chair.

Lindsay carefully leaned forwards and touched his cheek, stroking it lightly. It was scratchy with stubble, remnants of a two-day, grueling case. One that had resulted in rightfully putting a man in jail, yet had drained her emotionally. She moved her hand to Danny's hair, running her fingers through it before she could truly comprehend what she was doing. She stopped herself when her fingers hit his neck, too many memories of holding him there to pull herself closer.

She bent down and picked up Celia from his arms. As she did, Danny awoke with a gasp, his arms raising up to follow the infant.

"It's OK," Lindsay said hoarsely, "I've got her. Go back to sleep."

Danny's eyes reluctantly closed, and he rested his head on the chair again. Lindsay brought Celia to the crib and carefully set her down, smoothing the girl's wispy brown hair down. "Goodnight, baby," Lindsay whispered, "I love you."

She turned away, her gaze catching on Danny. The alcohol loosened her mouth enough so the words slipped out before she could hold them in. "I love you," she said softly, and left, her hands itching to touch him again.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, our killer must be bipolar?" Danny asked, shuffling the papers on his desk. He glanced up at Hawkes, who nodded.

"Only way it explains the drugs in their system," Sheldon explained. He looked down the hallway, to see Lindsay walking up with the baby in a sling around her chest. "Lindsay," he smiled, and headed towards her.

Supporting the baby's bottom with one hand, she ran the other through her hair. She was wearing a baggy, gray sweatshirt and jeans, her curls mussed, dark circles under her eyes. Danny found himself wondering how she could look so beautiful.

Hawkes touched the baby's head gently, then kissed Lindsay's cheek. "Is that cold gone?" he asked Lindsay, peeking down to Celia. The baby had on the little pink cap Danny had bought for her.

"I think so," Lindsay said, "She's been having some trouble sleeping, but other than that, she's healthy."

Sheldon reached down and tickled the little girl's cheek. "I'd better run these to the lab," he said, "But it's good to see you. Mac hasn't got you back on full time yet, has he?"

Lindsay shook her head. "Not yet. Just a shift here and there. But I'll be back soon."

Hawkes grinned and waved goodbye, walking down the hall to the Trace lab.

Danny walked over to Lindsay. "You OK? Something wrong?"

She shook her head. "Why?"

"You aren't on shift. What's up?"

She reached into her pocket, gently shifting Celia's weight to her left side, and pulled out Danny's wallet. "You left this at my place," she explained.

"You didn't have to come down here," Danny said, "It's raining. I'da come over to see you." He blinked. "To get the wallet. To pick it up, I mean."

She smiled faintly. The expression faded quickly. She opened her mouth hesitantly. "I …" she said in a raspy voice, "I was being silly last night. I'm sorry."

"I already told ya," he said, gently taking Celia from the baby sling, "No big deal. Thanks for letting me stay the night." Celia gave a light sniffle and rested her little head on Danny's chest as he held her. He supported her neck with one of his large hands, making sure she was stable.

Lindsay smiled. "She likes you."

"Course she does," Danny grinned. He scooted her further up on his chest. "I'm her daddy." He kissed Celia's head.

"She's almost ready to spend the night with you at your place, if you want. I asked her doctor, and he said it was fine." Lindsay reached out and rubbed Celia's back gently.

"Yeah, that sounds great," Danny said excitedly.

"Just no taking her out on the motorcycle," Lindsay said gravely.

"Linds," Danny said, his eyes wide, "I'd never –"

She burst out laughing. "I'm kidding, Danny. "

Danny's shocked face broke into a grin. "Jesus, Montana. Cut me some slack, here."

She giggled and reached out her arms for Celia. "I've got some errands to run – Celia needs medicine from the pharmacy."

"I can grab it," Danny said, "Or at least let me pay for it." He handed Celia to Lindsay and attempted to pull out his wallet.

Lindsay shook her head. "I got it." She settled Celia back into the baby sling. "And I dropped the baby bag off in our office, so I've got to run and get that before she needs to be fed again." She gave Danny a little wave, and turned away.

Danny sighed and continued to the trace lab to meet up with Sheldon again.

"Hey," Sheldon said, "I just started running the trace on the t-shirt. Nothing yet."

"So … the baby was sick?"

Sheldon looked up. "Yeah, you didn't know? A little cold, a few days back."

"Lindsay never said anything to me," Danny said, absentmindedly dabbing a bit of sterile water onto a slide, over the hair he'd sampled.

Sheldon turned away from Danny and watched the mass spectrometer whir away. "You asked for minimal involvement," Sheldon said.

"I never said that," Danny reminded him, "I just said I wasn't ready for it yet."

"Doesn't matter if you're ready, Danny," Sheldon said, a bit hotly, "It just happens. You've got to rise up to meet things like this. You can't just play the immaturity card."

Danny sighed and shoved the slide under the microscope. "You don't know the whole story, Hawkes," he said tiredly.

Sheldon turned and glared at Danny. "All I know is, you went to exactly two doctor's appointments, Danny, and to me that says you don't give a damn," he said dangerously.

"I love my daughter," Danny replied simply.

"Now," Hawkes said, "You love your daughter now."

"It ain't any of your business, Hawkes!" Danny shouted, and ripped off his lab coat. He stormed out of the room, leaving the evidence for Sheldon to put away.

* * *

Lindsay sighed as she stood in line at the pharmacy. On her mother and Sheldon's advice, she was stocking up on baby medicine. Sheldon had advised her to be well stocked in band-aids, diaper rash cream, Tylenol drops, and fever drops in case of a crisis. He told Lindsay to call him at any time if Celia was sick. He was taking his role as Celia's godfather very seriously. Hawkes had been the one to recommend her pediatrician, a nice older woman who had helped him out during medical school.

Lindsay looked down at Celia, who was napping against her chest. She touched the baby's wispy hair, and trailed a finger down the little girl's cheek. "How's my baby girl," she whispered in her baby voice, bending in towards the Celia.

The events that occurred during Lindsay's gentle baby talk took no more than ten seconds. Not a single person in the line understood what was going on until it was too late. As Lindsay bent down, the man behind her with dark sunglasses and a backwards Yankees cap slid to the side and swiftly reached up to spray paint the security camera lens black. As he did so, the man ahead of Lindsay pulled his beanie down low on his face, and took a step forwards and reached behind the counter of the pharmaceudical desk and took the collection of pills that were lying there. And as he did that, a third man in a hideous blonde wig stepped from behind an aisle and shot the pharmacist at the counter.

At the sound, Celia began to shriek. Lindsay's head snapped up, her arms tightening around Celia's tiny body. Lindsay cursed quietly under her breath, and took a step back. She glanced to the side, her keen detective senses kicking in. She briefly noted the size, appearance, and movement of the man to her left, in front of her, and to her right.

The man in the blonde wig raised his gun into the air and fired another shot. "Everyone down," he grunted. "On the floor. Anyone lifts a finger, they get a bullet between the eyes."

Lindsay slowly complied, along with the elderly man to the side of the desk, and the woman with her hair in rollers who was behind Lindsay in line.

Lindsay carefully lifted the sling off of her body, her mind racing. Could she risk anything with Celia lying right next to her? She set the baby down on her back next to her and bent her head down.

Her eyes kept alert, trying to get a glimpse of the make and size of the shoes each man wore on his feet, and the places they stood in case they left trace.

Celia's crying quieted as Lindsay rested her hand on the baby's stomach, smoothing it in circles. "Shh, shh," Lindsay hushed her.

From the movements of their feet, Lindsay could deduct that the men took more pills from the pharmacy, then snagged the cash from the register, then seemed to take something from the aisles. They stopped as a siren sounded in the distance, heading towards the pharmacy.

She turned her head briefly to look at the two other people in the room with her. The elderly man had his eyes squeezed shut, and was mumbling something. From the tune of his words, it seemed that he was singing some sort of hymn. The woman behind Lindsay was panting heavily, as though she'd just run a marathon. In the reflection of the shiny metal pharmacy desk, Lindsay could see that the woman had her cell phone next to her hand. Lindsay smiled. The woman had called 911.

"It's OK," Lindsay whispered to Celia, who had returned to sniffling and was sucking on her fist, the tears drying on her pink cheeks.

"Shut up," the man in the blonde wig snapped. "We done?" He asked, turning to the other two men.

"Yeah, we're good," the man in the backwards Yankees cap said. Suddenly, he swiftly turned to the elderly man and stomped down on the man's leg. The old man let out a sharp yell of pain. "Be good little shoppers, now," the Yankees fan snorted, and walked out. His two friends followed.

Lindsay, eyeing the reflection of the police car's lights in the pharmacy desk, knew the time was right. As the man in the beanie jogged by her, she slowly stretched her leg out. The man, not seeing her change in position, tripped and toppled headfirst to the ground. His forehead smacked dully against the edge of the aisle, and he fell to the floor with a thud, blood seeping from his head wound. The second he hit the floor, his friends looked back at his unconscious body, then at the approaching police car. They seemed to make the same split second decision and leaped into the black van they'd arrived in. The car sped off into an alleyway, tires screeching.

Meanwhile, Lindsay had leapt up, picked up Celia, and went to check on the injured pharmacist at the counter. She couldn't get the latch open, so she was forced to climb carefully over the counter.

The injured woman was lying on the floor, blood gurgling from a hole in the middle of her chest. Her stick straight black hair was sticking to the blood pooling around her body. "You're going to be fine," Lindsay said weakly, lying Celia on the floor beside the woman's body.

Lindsay carefully placed her hands on the woman's chest, over the bleeding wound, and pressed down. The blood gurgled again as the woman took a shaky breath.

"Don't try to talk," Lindsay soothed.

"Lindsay!" she heard from behind her. It was a terrified, booming shout that echoed in the room.

"Behind the counter," she said back, "we need the paramedics, she's bleeding out!"

Danny leaped over the counter, landing on the floor with a heavy thump. "I got it," he said quickly, and moved her hands aside, his large hands moving to cover the woman's wound.

"Are you hurt? Anyone hurt you or Celia?" he asked as he pressed down on the wound.

"No," Lindsay said. She stood and motioned to the paramedics, who were assessing the fallen robber and the elderly man. "We need help," she shouted.

One of the paramedics raced over, reaching over the little door of the counter to unlock it and open it.

He assumed Danny's position by the injured pharmacist's side and called out to his partner what he would need.

"C'mon," Danny said to Lindsay, "Let's get you out of here." He picked up Celia in her sling, the blood on his hands staining the white baby swaddle. Celia sniffled and continued to suck her fist sleepily.

Danny wiped blood from one hand on the sling, then carefully checked Celia for signs of injury.

"She's fine," Lindsay said, peering shakily into the baby sling, "they were only here for a few minutes. They never touched her."

"And you?" Danny asked, looking up into Lindsay's eyes as he led her out of the pharmacy.

"I told you already," she said, her voice trembling, "No."

A second ambulance arrived, the two paramedics climbing out from the car. Danny pointed them in the direction of the elderly man, who was hobbling out of the pharmacy with one hand on the shoulder of one of the police officers who'd shown up with Danny.

"How did you get here so fast?" Lindsay asked, her hands slowly ceasing to shake.

Danny led her to the silver SUV he'd been driving. He helped her into the passenger seat, handing her the baby. "I was on my way over to offer to take Celia for you for a little while. You didn't have your phone – you left the baby bag with all your stuff in the office." He reached out one hand and rubbed her arm. "How about I take your statement and then I'll take you two home?"

Lindsay nodded shakily and told him the story. He took notes on a pad of paper he kept in his back pocket. When she was done, he kissed the top of her head, whispered that he was glad she was OK, and took her home.

* * *

"Danny, thanks for making dinner. You didn't have to." Lindsay said, putting her plate in the sink.

He was on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him, as Celia, on her belly between his legs, slapped her little hands on the floor and tried to wiggle towards him.

"No problem," he said, reaching out for Celia, "Don't clean up, I got it." He extended a hand towards Celia. "C'mon, baby, just get up on your knees. C'mon…" he held his open hand out about a foot in front of her.

"You're not going to get her to crawl. I told you, she only did it once. Last week. She hasn't done it since then," Lindsay said, washing off the last plate and sitting down on the hardwood floor next to Danny. "Plus, she's only four months old. Most babies don't start crawling until they're at six months."

Danny leaned back against the cupboard, letting his hand drop. "Well, she's my kid. She's advanced."

Lindsay snorted. "Yeah. You're so advanced, Danny."

"Watch it, Monroe," Danny warned teasingly.

"You're so advanced that you only took six weeks to figure out how to open the baby-proofed cabinets," Lindsay laughed.

"Well maybe you shoulda held off on doing the stupid baby-proofing shit until she's actually moving around your apartment without one of us carrying –"

Lindsay smacked his arm and pointed towards Celia.

"Ow, what was –"

She reached up and covered his mouth with one of her hands. She used the position to forcibly turn his head to look at Celia.

The little girl was struggling to get up onto her hands and knees, moving forwards by pulling her hands on the floor and scooting her pudgy lower half towards her parents. Her baby blue onesie allowed her to slide along the floor easily. When she reached Danny's torso, she reached up her hands to him and made an excited cooing noise.

Lindsay's hand dropped from Danny's mouth.

"Good girl!" Danny said excitedly. He lifted her up and cuddled her to his chest. "Holy shit! That was amazing!"

"Don't swear!" Lindsay laughed, punching him in the shoulder. She reached out and nuzzled Celia's cheek, causing the baby to let out a little shriek of laughter. Danny patted her back and kissed her head.

After a quick game of peekaboo, the two put Celia to bed, tucking her in and kissing her. They returned to the kitchen and Lindsay started to put the plates away in the dishwasher. Danny shooed her away and did it himself, telling her to make herself "some tea or somethin'."

Lindsay settled down with a cup of tea on her faded blue couch. She tucked her cold feet under her and turned on the TV. When Danny came back in, she was watching the national geographic channel intently.

"You're so obsessed with this station," he chuckled, sitting down next to her.

"It's good," she said absentmindedly, watching as a leopard chased after a gazelle.

"Scintillating," Danny grunted.

She giggled and shut it off. "Thanks for doing the dishes," she smiled. "I'm fine, you know, Celia too. You don't have to stay."

He paused and looked at her, his hands itching to tuck her hair behind her ears and kiss her soundly. "You sure? You're OK?"

She nodded and smiled.

"A'right," he said, a little forlornly. He stood up and headed to the door, where he'd left his shirt, still stained with the blood of the pharmacist. He'd had a change of clothes for himself in the car, thankfully. He scooped up the shirt and kissed Lindsay's cheek goodbye. "I'll come by tomorrow and check up on you," he promised, and left.


	3. Chapter 3

Lindsay panted heavily as she pushed the jogging stroller down a path in Central Park. She was wearing her black sweats and a hot pink spaghetti strap t-shirt, which did very little for the biting cold. She didn't care a bit, though, thinking only of the new, perfect, expensive size six jeans she was going to fit into when she was done losing her baby weight. She wished she had her ipod, or at least some way of distracting her from the stitch in her side and the burning in her thighs. But she had to keep going.

_Lucky Celia,_ she thought as her mind fixed on her daughter, snug and warm in the protective cover of the stroller, in her thick, green jacket and heavy quilted blanket. Suffice it to say, she was insanely jealous that her tiny daughter was under doctor's orders to gain weight, whereas here Lindsay was, running so hard she could barely breathe, trying to lose the last ten pounds of her baby weight.

Her phone interrupted her stream of thoughts. Slowing her quick pace, Lindsay unhooked the phone from the stroller and hit answer. She pressed it to her ear and managed to muster a very panting, "Hey, Danny."

"_Jesus, what's wrong with you?"_

"I'm … running," Lindsay panted.

"_Why? Is someone chasing you? You all right? Is Celia all right? Talk to me – do you need me to -"_

"Exercise," Lindsay gasped, "I'm … exercising … stupid."

"_OK, OK. No need to get pissy. Look, I'll swing by in about an hour, see how you're doin'."_

"I'm … fine."

"_Sure. But I'm comin' over anyways. I'll bring a pizza. And I got a shirt for Celia. It's great – you'll love it."_

Lindsay panted a slight "uh-huh."

"_See ya in an hour."_

She hung up and snapped the phone back onto the stroller. Increasing her pace, she headed home.

* * *

Danny opened the door without knocking and shut it behind himself. He headed to the kitchen, where Lindsay was sitting next to Celia in her high chair, trying to get the baby to eat a spoonful of apple sauce.

"Please? Just a little bite… come on, Celia, take a bite," Lindsay begged, teasing the baby's lips with the spoon.

"Montana, check this out," Danny said, dropping the pizza box on the table and pulling out a baby onesie from his sweatshirt pocket. The outfit was white, with a blue design of a stroller on it and bubble letters that proclaimed 'That's how I roll.'

Lindsay laughed and stood up. "Well, you can put it on her if you can get her to eat something. We went to the doctor today, and she told me that Celia over here needs to gain some weight."

Danny walked over to the high chair and lifted the little girl up into his arms. She squealed and shoved her fist in her mouth. Danny cuddled her against his chest and kissed her head. "You're too thin, huh, baby?" he said, tickling her stomach. "It's OK, we'll get you fattened up."

Lindsay felt like crying. She turned away and got out two plates from the cabinet, one hand holding her stomach.

"Wassa matter, you sick?" Danny asked, concerned. He glanced at her hand.

"No, it's nothing," she said, brushing him off. She dumped the plates on the table and opened the pizza box.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" he asked. He put Celia back in her high chair and effortlessly coaxed her into eating a heaping spoonful of the applesauce. The tears in Lindsay's eyes increased, and one dripped down her cheek.

Danny stood up and put the baby spoon down on the high chair. "Linds, c'mon," he said gently, reaching out to touch her arm.

She sniffed and wiped the tears harshly from her eyes. "I'm fine," she said, but her words faltered as Danny leaned in and hugged her tightly.

"What is it?" Danny asked again. Lindsay felt the words rumble in his chest.

"It's just a bunch of things," she muttered, "They're just adding up really quickly."

"The hold-up?" Danny asked.

"Yeah," she said, grateful for the excuse.

"What else?"

She hesitated, leaning into the hug. "A bunch of things," she said finally. She wondered if, a year or so earlier, she might have told him the problem. A year ago, when she thought she knew what was going on in his head, she would have been able to be in the same space with him and relax. Now, she wasn't so sure.

Danny kissed the side of her head and pulled away. "Look, how about you take a slice of the pizza and watch a movie or something? I'll get Celia into bed and alla that. Just take it easy. Take a break."

She nodded and put a slice of pizza on her plate.

* * *

An hour later, Danny collapsed onto the faded couch next to Lindsay. She was lazily watching a Sci Fi flick – something about mutant leeches in a small southern town.

Danny handed her the popcorn he'd just made and said, "You gonna tell me what's buggin' you?"

She shook her head.

"What do I gotta do to get something out of you?" he joked.

"I'm not talking," she said stubbornly, turning up the sound on the TV.

Danny slyly slipped the remote from her grasp and turned off the TV. "Talk," he commanded.

Lindsay abruptly burst into tears.

Danny, unaware of what boundaries she'd set up for him, reached out and took her hand. He rubbed his thumb on her palm in a meek attempt to soothe her. "It'll only go away if you talk about it."

She sniffed and coughed out her story. "I hate being a mother," she sobbed, "I'm not pretty anymore and the baby doesn't like me, and I can never go out anymore without thinking about her, and I can't lose any weight and I'm so tired all the time –" she collapsed into a fit of sobbing, burying her face in the back of the couch.

Danny reached over and pulled her into a hug. "OK, OK, slow down. First off, you're gorgeous, Linds, and the baby loves you. More than anything. I didn't really get the rest, 'cause you were kinda talking too fast."

She sniffed and hugged his neck. "I'm tired, I'm fat, and I can't stop thinking about her."

"You're tired? I'll take her more. Just call me, OK? I'll come over and take care of her and you can get some sleep. And you're not fat, at all, Linds. You're gorgeous, like I said. And I know you can't stop thinking about her. Neither can I."

Lindsay lifted her puffy, red face to look at him. "Really?" she sniffed.

"Yeah. I know it's weird, 'cause it's like you're not about yourself anymore. But it's not that bad, you know?" he said, stroking her hair. "And if you're having a hard time being a mother, just let me help. We're doing this together. You know that."

"I feel old," she said sadly.

"You aren't," he laughed, "I'm older than you, if you wanna get right down to it. So when I start to worry, then you can. But I ain't worried."

She let out a watery giggle.

"Look, I know this is hard for you 'cause you're doin' most of the work. But it's like I said at the hospital, right? When she was born? I'll do anything you want – babysitting, shopping, laundry – just say the word."

She smiled and let go of him, leaning back against the couch. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, clearing herself of the tears. "Thanks," she said, her runny nose muffling her words.

"Don't mention it," he said, already missing her warm body against his chest. He sighed and checked his watch. "OK, look, I'm on call and I gotta get some paperwork done over at the lab. So I gotta go. But if you want me to take her tonight, give you a break. If you want."

She shook her head. "She's asleep. She sleeps through most of the night now. It's easy from here on out."

"That's good," he said absentmindedly. Finally, he glanced at his watch. "I gotta go. I'll call you, OK?"

"Thanks, Danny," she said softly.

"No problem, gorgeous," he said, and kissed her head. "See you tomorrow. Get some sleep, yeah?"

She nodded, smiling at him.

He shut the door behind himself, and she heard him call through the heavy wooden door for her to lock it behind him.

She got up grudgingly and did as he asked. Thinking little of it, she pressed her ear against the door, listening for his footsteps as he shuffled away. She heard none.

After a moment, she looked through the peephole to see if he'd left already. From what she could tell, he was just standing outside the door, his key to her apartment in his hand, ready to open the door. He was just standing there, debating whether or not to come back in.

Just as she was about to open the door, he jolted, as though seized by some thought or other, and left, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Lindsay suddenly felt very tired, and leaned against the door heavily. She realized, for a brief moment, that she would have given anything to have Danny open the door.

Shaking her head of any further thoughts, she went into the kitchen and made herself some tea.

He'd come so far, she mused, since that day on the couch in her living room, where he'd sat, so drunk she could barely make out what he was saying, and stared sadly at the round bump that was Lindsay's belly.

"I can't do it," he'd said over and over again, "It's not the right time; I got too much on my plate."

Lindsay had said nothing. She'd merely sat, awkwardly sober and holding her stomach with splayed hands as though she were trying to hide it. Sometimes she dreamt, now, about what she'd wanted to say. A long, winded tirade about how she hadn't asked for this either, how she was scared out of her mind too, and she'd be the one who was drunk if she could. She had wanted to scream at him that he wasn't the only one. And then she'd wanted to beg, and plead, and tell him that, if they got through it together, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

But she hadn't told him a damn thing. She'd been docile and quiet, hiding her stomach and letting him talk.

"I love you," he'd said, "And I'm sorry we broke up, but I don't know if I can do this with you right now." He'd finished with that, and had struggled to his feet.

"It's not for me," she'd said quietly, watching him go.

He'd paused at the door, looking at her. But the alcohol had slowed his brain, fudged his rational thought, so he'd pushed open the door and left.

After Lindsay went in to check on Celia, she laid down on her bed and dropped immediately into sleep, not even bothering to take off her clothes.

* * *

The next morning, Lindsay awoke the sound of a buzzer going off. She reached out to her alarm clock and smacked it, hoping that it would turn off. Waking up gradually as time progressed, she realized that the sound was not her alarm clock. She sat up groggily and looked around, finally spying her phone vibrating angrily on the floor. She bent down and picked it up, hitting the answer button.

"Hello?" she asked groggily.

"_Hey, is this … Lindsay?"_

"Who are you?" Lindsay moaned, sitting up.

"_This is Harold Whitman. Harry? We met at a bar a few nights ago."_

"We did?"

_The man chuckled. "Look, we were both pretty wasted… hey I'm just calling to say I'm sorry for how I acted that night. I'm not usually like that."_

"Me, neither," Lindsay admitted, leaning back against her headboard.

"_I just wanted to make it up to you," he said amiably, "How about some dinner tonight? Say, six thirty? Midtown?"_

"I …"

"_I know this great place. Do you want to meet up there? It's called _Cucina Bene_. I'll see you there?"_

"Um … you know what? That sounds great," Lindsay said, hoping he was buying. At this point, with all the money she was spending on diapers and baby clothes, free dinner sounded like a godsend.

She hung up the phone with a huge smile on her face, one that did not fade as she went in to check on Celia.

* * *

Lindsay walked into work with a wide, bright smile on her face that contrasted heavily with the suffocating, wild panic at the back of her head. While Lindsay was coming back for her first day of work since maternity leave, Celia was spending her first day in day care.

Lindsay had called Danny and asked him to run a background check on every employee of the day care a few days earlier, and though they'd all been clean, Lindsay was nervous. She was having terrifying visions of coming to pick Celia up and finding her nowhere, the day care center empty and echoing.

Celia, however, had made little fuss. As per her usual fashion, Celia had been napping. Danny's mother had informed Lindsay that Celia was the sleepiest and the quietest baby she'd ever witnessed. According to Gina Messer, Danny and Louie had 'never shut up.' The day care had Lindsay's cell phone, her work phone, Danny's home, work, and cell, Danny's mother's cell phone, his cousin Ritchie's cell phone, and Lindsay's parent's phone in Montana. Just in case.

Lindsay headed immediately to the break room to find something to calm her nerves. Tea, maybe.

Danny and Don walked into the break room moments later, discussing the possible suspects on their case. Danny looked up from the file to see Lindsay, leaning against the counter, distractedly stirring a cup of steaming tea.

"What?" Danny chuckled.

Lindsay looked up in surprise and shook her head. "Nothing," she said.

"Liar," Danny snorted.

"I gotta get back to the precinct," Don said, heading out the door, "See you two later."

Lindsay raised a hand in a wave and took a sip of her tea.

"It's the daycare, isn't it?" Danny asked knowingly.

"They don't know her!" Lindsay exclaimed, "What if she's hungry and they forget to feed her? What if they neglect her? What if they're not watching her and someone comes in and –"

"Don't think about that," Danny said, slapping his case file onto the counter. "None of that's gonna happen. I checked out everyone at that day care. She's fine. Look, if it makes you feel better, I get off work in an hour and I can take her out."

Lindsay smiled but stopped, her face blanching. "Oh, God."

"What? What's wrong?"

"I forgot to get a babysitter for tonight– do you think you could –"

"Sure," he said quickly, smiling at her.

"Do you mind watching her at my place? I don't know if she's entirely comfortable spending an entire day away. I want her to have some sort of routine…"

"Sure, no problem," he said. Suddenly, he frowned. "What do you need a babysitter for? I thought you got off at like three in the afternoon."

Lindsay smiled nervously.

* * *

"I'm just sayin'. I don't like the guy at all," Danny said firmly. "He was gonna drive you to his place while he was drunk off his ass, Linds."

"You know this isn't about that," she snapped, handing him Celia's baby bag. "You know this is because you're jealous, and you know what Danny? You had two girlfriends while I was pregnant with Celia, so if you give me any crap about 'dating too soon,' then I swear I will –"

"I don't want you getting hurt," Danny said defensively, taking Celia into his arms and jiggling her to calm her soft whimpers. "I want you to be safe. That's all."

"Well, I'll take a cab. I'll be 'safe,'" she said, using dramatic quotation marks with her fingers. "You're so … infuriating sometimes," she spat, and spun around back to the cab she and Celia had taken to his place.

"You're not allowed to yell at me!" he shouted back, "I'm babysitting!"

"Oh shut up, you practically begged for this!" she grinned, her anger quickly fading. She hated and loved how he could do that – draw her out of a funk with a simple joke.

* * *

Danny lumbered sleepily out of Celia's room. He'd fallen asleep in the rocking chair again holding his daughter. He wiped sleep out of his eyes and wandered into the living room.

He jumped back in surprise as he saw Lindsay, sitting on the couch cross-legged with a tub of ice cream sitting on her lap. She was wearing a long-sleeved blue dress that hit the tops of her knees as she sat on the couch. She was glaring at the ice cream before her as she furiously ate it.

"How was your date?" Danny asked, sitting down next to her.

"Stupid," she responded.

"Yeah, how so?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she snapped, and shoved a heaping spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

"Do I have to beat someone up?" Danny asked lightly, stealing her spoon and scooping himself a bite of ice cream.

"No," Lindsay sighed. She knew that it was her fault the date hadn't gone well. Walking into the restaurant, they'd spotted a woman pushing a stroller. Lindsay had bent down to say hello to the chubby little boy. She'd picked up his toy for him and touched his cheek, smiling at the boy's admiring mother.

It was then that Harold had shivered and remarked that he hated children. He just couldn't bear the thought of having one of his own. Not to mention, he had remarked, they hated him with a fiery passion.

From the on, the date had been horrible. Lindsay had been distant, constantly checking her phone, responding to his questions with short, clipped answers, and eating quickly to get the hell out of there.

"He hates kids, Danny," she said sadly, and stole the spoon back. She scooped up a bite and shoved it in her mouth.

Danny shrugged. "Then he's not worth it."

"Easy for you to say," Lindsay mumbled.

"C'mon, what's that supposed to mean?" Danny asked, leaning back against the couch.

"It's different for you."

"Yeah, how?"

"You're not … Never mind. I'm going to bed." She got up and walked to the kitchen, shoving the ice cream container in the fridge.

Danny got up and trudged after her. "Whatcha mean? Seriously, how's it different for me?"

"You know what I mean, Danny," she sighed and brushed past him to her bedroom before he could say anymore.

She shut the door, leaving him standing in her kitchen, wondering what the hell she meant.

Lindsay sat on her bed and concentrated on not crying. She couldn't understand how he didn't see it – how she was out of practice with dating, how she still had weight to lose, how she didn't have his god-like good looks.

She fell back onto her back, thinking briefly of the two women Danny had dated during the pregnancy. One was a secretary at a big law firm – Candace, her name had been. She'd been tall, busty, and red-haired, with empty green eyes. The other had been a blonde woman with perfect teeth and a laugh that sounded like tinkling bells. She had no idea where he'd met them, but she'd see him making out with one of them in front of the crime lab every so often. Candace had lasted for most of the second trimester, and Rachel, the blonde, had been around for the last part of the third trimester.

She knew why he'd dated them, though. She'd had the same feeling he had: a deep, unsettling fear that the dating life you knew was rapidly disintegrating. And Danny, watching Lindsay's stomach get rounder and rounder each day, had decided to take advantage of his dwindling freedom.

Since Celia's birth, they'd been nowhere to be found, though. Danny had, to her knowledge, been completely single for the past four months. By choice, clearly – she'd seen women checking him out wherever they went – at Celia's doctor's office, on the street, in coffee shops all over the city. He seemed to have given it all up for the life he had with Celia.

Lindsay sighed and rolled onto her side, breathing in a gulp of air. She knew the real reason her date had gone so badly. He wasn't Danny.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks Laurzz for the help!

* * *

Danny watched her from his desk. Her third day back, and she was definitely not doing so hot. Her actual work was fine – there was no question there. But he could only assume that, after a long day of focusing intently on tiny bits and pieces of evidence, especially piecing together and fingerprinting the broken window panes from a recent case of hers, she would have loved nothing more than to collapse into bed and fall asleep. He'd seen her do it when they were still going out, seen her literally stumble into his apartment, push into his bedroom, and fall onto his bed, shoes, clothes, and all.

And then his mind was off – images of taking her clothes off slowly, changing her into her pajamas and tucking her into bed.

It was a recent hobby of his, a tick, one might say. Certainly a different type of fantasy than he was used to. Gone were the images of passionate hookups in broom closets, lap dances, provocative poses – oh no, nowadays, he dreamed of domestic life. His mind was inundated with images of himself at Lindsay's place, hugging her, sleeping curled up behind her, kissing her temple, making her dinner – his ultimate fantasy was just sitting on the couch with her, her head on his chest, watching a movie.

Lindsay stifled a yawn and continued researching the small bonsai tree she'd found ripped to pieces amidst the broken glass of the windowpanes. Danny looked her over, finally seeing how haggard she looked.

"Stop," Danny said.

Lindsay looked up, her hand over her mouth to hold in another yawn. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Noth – Actually, get up."

"What? Why?"

"We're going out. On a date."

She laughed and turned back to her computer, her eyes glazing over again.

"I'm serious," Danny said. He stood up and shrugged into his leather jacket. He tossed her coat over to her desk and grabbed his wallet from the desk and shoved it into his pocket. "Get up. Let's go."

She stared at him in incomprehension for a moment, before shaking her head. "I have work," she stammered, "I have things to do and –"

"Lindsay. I ain't kiddin'. Get up."

She stood, still confused, and put on her coat, buttoning the large black buttons up to her chin. "Mac will –"

"Mac doesn't want you to starve," he said, smirking and wondering if she remembered the first time he'd said something like that. "Now come on."

* * *

She carefully straddled the motorcycle behind him, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his torso. "Danny, it's been a while since I've …"

"Tighter," he instructed, fastening his helmet before turning to see if she'd put hers on correctly, "I don't want you falling off."

"I –" she started, but he took off. She reflexively held tight to him, pulling herself towards him and scooting her torso into his so that not an inch of her front was uncovered.

He roared out of the parking garage and whipped towards the left.

* * *

"Danny, this is an actual restaurant."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, we'll have to have an actual sit down dinner. And we have work, and –"

Danny opened his phone and dialed Mac's number quickly. "Hey, it's Danny … yeah, hey. Look, Lindsay's tired and hungry, so I'm taking her to get some food … yeah, I'll be back … uh-huh, I'll tell her. Thanks, boss. Bye." He snapped the phone shut and put it in his pocket. "Done," he said, and tugged her over to a booth.

"Tell me what?" Lindsay asked curiously, scooting into the booth and taking a menu from the server.

Danny grinned. "You're going home after this. You only had like an hour left in your shift."

"Why did you do that?" Lindsay asked crossly, "I have to work, Danny."

"It's your third day back," he said, reading over the menu, "And you're tired as hell, and you're overworked. And you have a four month old at home –"

"Four and a half," she corrected.

Danny frowned at her. "I know," he said, "Look, point is, Celia's kinda a lot to handle. And you're tired. So just relax and have dinner with me, and then go home."

"I can't relax," she snapped, putting the menu down, "Like you said, I have a baby at home. And I have to earn money for her. And that includes being responsible for her. Running out of work and getting dinner? That's not responsible."

Danny smirked. "What's responsible is taking good care of yourself. And you aren't a robot. You need to relax sometimes. You just gotta take a break. It's for your health. You ain't never taken a mental health day?"

"I didn't know what it was until you mentioned it that one time," she said, blushing lightly.

Danny grinned. There was nothing better for your mental health, he thought, than spending an entire day in bed with your girlfriend.

"Ready to order?" the waitress asked, interrupting Danny and Lindsay's personal yet remarkably similar thoughts.

* * *

Lindsay scooped out the last bite of ice cream with her spoon, placing the heaping spoonful into her mouth and smiling, her eyes closed. She moaned softly.

Danny laughed and took another bite of the piping hot brownie on the plate. He watched Lindsay as she savored the last bite of their shared dessert.

"Good?" he laughed.

"God yes," she mumbled. _I don't care if I'll have to burn it off tomorrow night, _she thought fiercely, _that was delicious. _She wondered, for just a second, if what made the dessert so delicious was the fact that she was sharing it with Danny Messer, quite possibly the sexiest man she'd ever seen eat a brownie.

"So I was thinkin'," Danny said, using her spoon to scoop up some more brownie. He handed it over to Lindsay, who took it and popped it in her mouth. "We should pull out that schedule of visitation and stuff, and re-work it."

Lindsay grew serious and pulled the spoon out of her mouth. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and swallowed the brownie. "You, um, you think so?" she asked.

Danny nodded, absentmindedly twirling his spoon in the melted puddle of ice cream on the shared plate. "I mean, we planned it all the way up until she starts kindergarten, and I only get one day a week after she turns one and a half. So I was thinking, you know, we could work on it."

"We talked about it," Lindsay said, tucking her hair behind her ear, "When she was born, I mean. We discussed it."

Danny grinned. "You mean I yammered on for almost two hours about it."

"You were tired, Danny," she said, hiding a smile at the memory, "And you were …"

"Crying," he said shortly, glancing down at the brownie.

She nodded. "That, too." She wondered if you could call it that. It was more of a desperate, sobbing plea to her, for nearly two hours, apologies and regrets and promises that had Danny had followed through on in the past four months. She'd never seen him like that before: a Danny Messer so desperate, so pleading, so vulnerable.

"So what do you think?" he asked, "Can we work it out?"

Lindsay nodded and rested her elbow on the table, putting her chin on her hand. She stared at the couple next to them, in the midst of making out over a steaming plate of pasta. "Is that why you … took me here? To ask that? Because you could have called, or just said something at work –"

"No," Danny said firmly, scooting his chair forwards, "Not at all, Linds. You were tired, I just wanted to make you feel better."

"And talk about Celia," Lindsay said, glaring down at the plate of food on the table, "You wanted more time with her, so you took me out to –"

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying, here, Linds?" he asked. "I just wanted you to feel better. It wasn't for Celia, or for me, just you, OK? Hey," he said, reaching out and tapping the hand resting on the table, "I just wanted you to feel better."

She turned to him and smiled. "Oh," she said shyly.

* * *

They walked down the sidewalk to Danny's car, their feet in step.

"She really did that?" Danny laughed.

"Yep," Lindsay giggled, "Just rolled over onto her stomach and glared at it. She wasn't even afraid of it."

"Well it was a bug, Linds, not a monster."

"But she's little!" Lindsay exclaimed, "It was practically a fourth of her size!"

"It was a fly," Danny said, grinning, "Christ, you gotta work on your math there, Montana."

"Oh hush," Lindsay said, waving a hand at him. "She's fearless."

"Of course she is," Danny scoffed. Eyeing the drunk sitting on a stoop a few steps ahead of him and Lindsay, he gently put his arm around Lindsay's waist and steered her over to his left, away from the man. He nodded to the bum as he passed, but remained wary of the broken bottle just a little too close to the man's gnarled hand, and the nervous look in the man's eye.

He dropped some change in the upturned hat next to the bum as they passed.

Lindsay, shocked and warmed by Danny's arm around her waist, nearly died of ecstasy. It immediately served to remind her of walks with him after work, his hand on her waist and his bright smile as he glanced down at her from time to time.

When he moved his arm after they'd passed the man on the stoop, Lindsay suddenly felt cold. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"You want my jacket?" Danny asked, looking at her inquisitively.

"No," she said, smiling at him, "I'm fine."

They arrived at Danny's bike and he sat down on the bike, handing Lindsay a helmet. "You sure?" he asked, "It gets cold with the wind on the Harley. If you need it –"

"I'm fine," she repeated, and took the helmet and shoved it on her head. She realized that she was suddenly way too excited about being able to hold onto Danny as they rode the bike. She wrapped her arms around his torso as he revved the bike, breathing in his scent, and smiled a wide, wide smile that he could not see.

* * *

"Mac's going to be mad that you're coming in late," Lindsay whispered as she bent over the crib with Danny.

"So?" he whispered back, watching Celia's little hand come up to rub her tiny nose. He grinned at her.

"Thanks for paying the babysitter," Lindsay whispered to him as she reached down and snapped the top snap on Celia's flannel pajamas and rubbed the baby's warm stomach lightly.

"No problem," Danny answered. He worried his bottom lip with his teeth, watching Celia. He glanced up and around the room. "You lock the windows at night, yeah?" he asked Lindsay.

"Of course I do," she responded, rolling her eyes. "Don't I?" she whispered to Celia.

"Do you or don't you?" Danny asked, trying to find other ways someone could get into the tiny room.

"I do," Lindsay assured him. She straightened and ran a hand through her hair, watching with mild amusement as Danny double-checked the window at the far end of Celia's room. "Why are you checking?" she laughed quietly.

"Just makin' sure," he responded coolly, not wanting to convey the wild panic that sometimes took over him as he lay in his own, too-large bed at night and fought the urge to call Lindsay and see if she was all right.

Lindsay shrugged and watched as he came back over to Celia and laid his hand on her stomach, grinning as she took slow, even breaths.

"I should go," he said, making no move to take his hand off his daughter's stomach.

"Thanks for tonight," Lindsay said, "For dinner."

"No problem," Danny said, reluctantly taking his hand off Celia's stomach. He straightened and walked over to Lindsay. He pecked her on the cheek and headed out.

* * *

Lindsay walked into work the next morning holding her coffee in one hand. She practically skipped up the steps. "Morning!" she called out cheerfully to the security guard as she showed her badge.

He looked up at her sullenly, and waved her through to the crime lab.

She walked down the halls and pulled open the door to her and Danny's office. "Hi!" she said brightly, and sat down at her desk.

Danny hung up his phone and looked at her. "What's up with you?" he asked.

She plopped her coffee on the desk and grinned at it. "I had coffee today," she said, smiling so brightly her eyes crinkled.

"That so," Danny chuckled, "First time since …"

"Eleven months since I've had it. I had some the morning before I found out I was pregnant, then nothing for so … so … long," she stared wistfully at the brightly decorated Starbucks cup, then picked it up and took a long, satisfying sip. She put it back down again.

"So, the doctor said it was OK?"

Lindsay bit her lip and looked away.

"Lindsay …" Danny said in a warning tone, folding his arms across his chest. "Don't lie to me now."

Lindsay took a long sip of the coffee, avoiding his gaze. Finally, she glanced over at him, then admitted quietly, "Well she didn't say no…"

Danny frowned.

Lindsay sighed and rolled her eyes. "Look, Danny, I'm tired out of my mind all the time. And I just need a little boost. Plus, Dr. Weiss said that there's just a _small _chance that it'll affect Celia, and if it does, then the worst case scenario, she grows another limb."

"What?" Danny shouted.

Lindsay laughed, a little wild and caffeinated. "Kidding. Worst comes to worst, she stays up a little later." Lindsay stood and threw her empty coffee cup in the trash. "Now don't we have a suspect to go interview?"

* * *

The past week, Lindsay and Danny had been investigating the homicide of a pediatrician. The man had been found after having been thrown through the glass window of his building. The COD was exsanguination – after falling three stories, the man had landed on a sharp piece of glass that had sliced his aorta.

Lindsay and Danny drove out to the house of one of his patients, out on Long Island.

"Mrs. Harper, your son had been in Dr. Gold's care since his birth, right?" Lindsay asked.

The woman nodded, glancing out the window at her six-year-old son, who was kicking around a soccer ball with Danny on the brown grass.

"Well, why did you stop seeing Dr. Gold two weeks ago? What happened?" Lindsay asked.

Mrs. Harper ignored Lindsay, instead watching out the giant glass window to her left as her son laughed and scored a goal on Danny, acting as goalie.

"Mrs. Harper, I need to know," Lindsay said, laying a hand on the woman's arm.

Mrs. Harper jumped nearly a foot in the air, scooting backwards on the couch. Wild fear played in her eyes as she watched Lindsay. She slowly regained her composure.

Lindsay squinted her eyes, studying the woman. "Mrs. Harper …" she said slowly, trying for a shot in the dark, "Did something happen to you?"

Mrs. Harper gulped and smoothed down her spotted dress. She hesitantly glanced up at Lindsay, and spoke in her raspy, low voice. "He said he had something to talk about. He brought me into his office and …" she closed her eyes and placed a pale hand to her forehead. "I couldn't go back."

Lindsay watched her sadly, searching for words to comfort the woman. "I'm so sorry," she finally managed. Mrs. Harper took a deep breath, steadying herself, and opened her eyes.

"Did you talk to anyone? Lindsay asked, "Tell someone what happened?"

Mrs. Harper held in tears. "My friend Annalise. She takes her son Brett to Dr. Gold as well. He … he …"

"Did he hurt her, too?" Lindsay asked calmly.

Mrs. Harper nodded and turned again to the window. Danny was showing her son how to head the ball. "I couldn't go back."

"Did you tell anyone else?" Lindsay asked.

Mrs. Harper nodded tearfully. "My husband," she whispered.

* * *

"Well, I'da done it, even if the husband didn't," Danny said, heading back into the city. He turned to Lindsay, who was sitting in the passenger's seat, watching as dark storm clouds moved west towards the city.

"Done what?" Lindsay asked.

"Gone to see that guy. If some doctor did that to …"

Lindsay smiled. "To me?"

"Yeah," Danny said, too caught up in anger to pay attention to Lindsay's dreamy smile, "I'd go and pay him a visit. Might not kill him, but I'd want to. I mean, Jesus Christ! It's their kid's doctor!"

"The husband works at WordCorp, the publishing company. We should head over there."

"He shouldn't even be paying attention to the mothers," Danny ranted.

"What?"

"The doctor. His job is to make sure the kids are OK. The parents are supposed to trust him, and he's raping the mothers!" he shouted, shaking his head. "Thank God Celia's doctor is a woman."

"She is?" Lindsay asked curiously.

Danny looked at her quickly, then back to the road. "Isn't she?" he asked.

"Well, Dr. Weiss is my doctor. My OB/GYN. Celia's doctor is a guy."

"He's what?" Danny shouted, nearly veering off into the next lane. "You never told me that!"

Lindsay shrugged. "He's very nice."

Danny fumed. "How … No, that's not OK. He can't be her pediatrician. You never talked to me about that."

Lindsay turned to him angrily. "Oh, I didn't? I'm _so sorry, _Danny. You know how forgetful I was, that last month of pregnancy. You remember, don't you? Picking a pediatrician, painting her room, baby-proofing my apartment, parenting classes – don't you remember how much stuff there was to _do_?" she shouted. She was panting, turned nearly completely towards him.

Danny was silent, his hands gripped so tightly on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white.

"Because I'm sure you remember how hard it was to get everything done, to get ready for the baby! I must've called you somewhere in there. Didn't I? Didn't I call you? Do you remember?" Lindsay screamed. "Don't you?" she asked, her voice quieter, "Don't you remember?" She swallowed the bitter lump in her throat, forcing the memory of loneliness back into the recesses of her mind.

She huffed and turned away from him, glaring out the window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Danny stared quietly out the window, remembering the messages she'd left on his machine, the missed calls on his cell phone. How, every time he looked at Lindsay's blinking number on the screen of his phone, he went to the fridge and took out another beer until everything faded and he could no longer think straight. And then, nearly passed out on the sofa, he would play the messages and listen to her voice, not her words, and wish she were there with him.

After nearly a half hour of silence, they both spoke up, their voices tripping over each other. "You first," Danny said.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, her voice hoarse from yelling.

Danny chuckled.

"What?" she asked.

"I was going to apologize, too," he said, "But look, it's my fault. All of it. Don't apologize."

"I shouldn't have yelled," she said as Danny drove over the bridge into the city.

"You can yell," Danny said, throwing her a weak grin, "I can take it."

"Can you?" Lindsay muttered quietly under her breath so he wouldn't hear.

"So what's he like? This doctor?" Danny asked.

Lindsay gave Danny a little smile. "He's very sweet. Calls Celia honey bun all the time. She's a little scared of him when he gives her shots, but other than that, he's a great doctor."

"She doesn't like shots?" Danny asked, hoping he didn't sound like he was desperately reaching for information on his own daughter.

"She hates them," Lindsay laughed, "And she has to get them in her bottom."

"You're kidding," Danny said, looking over at Lindsay quickly.

Lindsay shook her head. "She cries her head off, tries to get away from the needle."

Danny smiled, thinking of Celia trying to fight her way out of Lindsay's grasp. His mind skimmed over towards the case, and he frowned. "Look, with this case, and alla that, can I … do you think I could –"

"You want to take her to the doctor?" Lindsay asked.

Danny looked over at her pleadingly.

"Sure," Lindsay smiled, "She has a checkup next month. I have some questions to ask about the baby food –"

"How's that going? The weaning, I mean."

Lindsay sighed. "Not good. She doesn't like baby food at all. Except for the applesauce. She had two spoonfuls of that."

"Good, good," Danny said.

"So we'll go together, OK? I'll let you know the dates. I have them all written up for the next couple of months – Unless you just want to go once," she added quickly. "You don't have to go to all of them."

"I want to," he admitted quietly. "Just send me the dates."

She looked over at him, how his fingers now tapped happily on the edge of the steering wheel, and every so often the edge of his mouth would tug up into a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

The next night, Lindsay found herself out running again. It was growing dark – the trees in Central Park grew more and more sinister as she jogged by them. Finally, deciding that she'd had enough, she went home. She realized that the reason she'd been out running for nearly four hours was that she was waiting for her cell phone to ring, and a familiar picture to show up on her iphone screen.

She opened the door to her apartment, cooing at Celia and tickling the little girl's cheek. Celia gave her little laugh and raised up her arms towards her mother. "How's my little girl?" Lindsay cooed, "How's my baby?"

She took Celia out of the stroller and stored the contraption to the side of the door, for the next night. She'd been using it a lot since the hold up at the pharmacy, mainly because Celia's baby sling had been covered in blood, and Lindsay didn't have the nerve to clean it and use it again, despite the fact that it cost a considerable amount of money to buy the damn thing.

She put Celia in her playpen and locked the doors before taking a quick, five minute shower. She changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt and nursed Celia.

After Celia had finished, Lindsay went on a search for baby food. She'd been trying to wean Celia off breast milk and formula and onto real food. Or, semi-real food, as Danny called it. The mashed up peas and carrots could hardly be called a meal.

"Damn!" she hissed, scooting aside the cans of beans and broth, searching for the tiny glass Gerber jars. She realized that she'd completely forgotten to buy some when she'd gone to the grocery store that week. She searched in the fridge for something to mash up for Celia, but found it nearly empty. Danny had been brining over a considerable amount of takeout lately, and that left Lindsay free of having to shop for 'adult food.'

"Looks like we're going out," Lindsay said reluctantly, wiping Celia's hands with a damp dishcloth, "I can't let you starve, can I?" She nuzzled Celia's cheek with her nose.

She covered Celia up in a thick, warm sweater, wrapped her in a blanket, and got up. She glanced at the clock. It was almost six thirty, and Celia would have to be in bed soon. "We'll be quick," she said to Celia. Lindsay glanced outside. There were dark clouds that blocked the light rays of moonlight, but the city's lights were on.

* * *

Lindsay wandered the aisles of the store, picking out her groceries. Before Celia, when her life was about her job, one grocery trip a month seemed to suffice, but nowadays she was out shopping every day, it seemed – baby clothes, baby toys, bottles, diapers by the ton – Celia was expensive.

She picked out some peach flavored baby food, apple, and carrot. Passing by the front counter, she couldn't help but pick up a thick, hefty bar of chocolate for herself.

"Mommy's going to stay fat," she whispered in Celia's ear, "And she doesn't care. Well, not much. She deserves this, right?"

Celia reached out and tried to eat some of Lindsay's hair.

"I'll take that as a sign to eat away," Lindsay laughed. She placed her basket on the checkout counter and unloaded the baby food and chocolate.

"Shit …" she murmured, "flour." She'd run out of flour the week before, and had been trying to remember to buy some. "Do you mind waiting?" she asked the clerk.

"There's a long line," the clerk said lazily, jerking his greasy head of hair in the direction of the three people behind Lindsay.

"Fine," Lindsay huffed, and re-loaded her basket. She went back to the main area of the store and picked up the flour, dropping it into her basket.

As she carefully balanced her basket, Celia, and her purse, her phone rang.

"I give up," she muttered, and set the basket down on the floor in the middle of the aisles and sat down on the floor. She put Celia on her lap, pulled out her cell phone, and smiled widely when she saw Danny's picture.

She pressed answer and held the phone to Celia's ear.

She could hear bits of Danny's tinny voice through the phone.

"Goo!" Celia said firmly into the phone, her little face scrunched up in concentration.

Laughing, Lindsay removed the phone from her ear and pressed it to her own. "Hey, Danny, it's me."

"_What was that?"_ he asked.

"That would be your daughter," Lindsay responded.

"_I thought so," he said, "Look, I can't come over and say hi to her tonight. Busy night – Mac's calling in everyone."_

"That's OK," she said, her voice betraying a hint of regret. "So I'll see you tomorrow. I'm coming in to work."

"_Oh, yeah?"_

"Yes. Just for a little while. Your mother offered to watch Celia for me."

"_She did, did she? Wassa matter, don't want her in day care?"_

"Yes," Lindsay laughed at the joking tone in Danny's voice. She could hear Don calling his name in the background. "I guess you've got to go," she said.

"_Yeah, kinda. Hey, how come you didn't answer the home line?"_

"Oh, I'm out at the store. Celia needed baby food."

"_It's dark out. You should be inside."_

"Really?" she said sarcastically, "Sure, mommy."

"_Aw, knock it off. You know I'm just sayin'. Plus, I woulda got the baby food. I told you – first six months, I'm your go-to guy for errands. And that offer is getting closer and closer to its deadline."_

"And then what?" she joked, "You leave me high and dry with a six month old?"

"_Shaddup. You know I just want you to get better from the birth."_

"I'm fine, Danny. Now get back to work."

"_Yes ma'am."_

There was a click, and he was gone. It was hard not to say "I love you" at the end of their phone calls.

She sighed and got up off the floor, gathering her assorted things and Celia. When she got back to the line, it was five people long. She frowned.

As she dropped her things on to the conveyor belt at the checkout line, she couldn't help but think about Danny's offer. She wished she'd taken him up on it; it was late and Celia really needed to go to sleep.

Danny had spent the first week after Celia's birth in the hospital with her. Lindsay had had problems with hemorrhaging after the birth. Danny had taken it upon himself to sit next to her bed in the hospital, bringing her whatever she wanted in terms of food, entertainment, or comfort. She'd been resilient to his advances, turning her head away when he came close to her and occasionally snapping and even shouting at him.

But when she, weak and tired from her stay in the hospital bed, had burst into tears late at night, he'd sat by her side and kissed her head and promised that everything would be OK, that he'd do whatever she wanted him to do, that he'd take care of her and the baby and make everything up to her for the rest of his life.

He'd taken paternity leave from work, spending the first two weeks Lindsay had off at her place, doing her laundry, making her meals, helping her to the bathroom and back, and waking up in the middle of the night from her worn out, uncomfortable couch to bring a crying Celia into a bedridden Lindsay's room.

After buying her groceries, Lindsay started to walk outside, only to yelp as she felt the rain drench her.

Celia shrieked excitedly up at the sky and stretched her little hands up to touch the water.

Lindsay drew back under the eave of the bodega. She frowned and shifted Celia up on her hip, the groceries held in her other arm. "Fuck," she said. She hated swearing in front of her daughter, but lately it seemed that every situation required it.

"OK, honey, let's see how we're going to work this," Lindsay said. She thought for a moment, then sat Celia, the bag of groceries, and her purse on the ground. She took off her jacket, emptied the contents of the grocery bag into her purse, and threw the paper bag away. Then, she adjusted her coat over Celia's head and picked up the baby and her purse. Celia was completely sheltered from the rain. Lindsay, however, was not.

Ordinarily, Lindsay loved the rain – it was perfect for gloomy moods, happy moods, and reflective moods. However, the rain was the least preferable weather for walking five blocks back to her apartment, with a squirmy baby and a heavy purse filled with flour, chocolate, and baby food.

When she finally got to her building, she thanked God that someone had left the front door unlocked. She slid in, and shut it behind her. She took a moment in the foyer to shake off all the excess water. She hurried up the stairs, dripping water all over the steps.

It was standing in front of her apartment door that she had to stop. Standing, shivering and cold, it suddenly became apparent to her that her door was cracked open, and someone was rummaging around inside her apartment. She turned with the stealthiest quiet, held Celia tight to her chest, and raced back down the steps.

She hid in the small crevice behind the staircase, on the first floor, with Celia clutched close to her chest. Her fingers were trembling; it took four tries to dial Danny's number correctly.

She pressed the phone to her ear, her eyes watching through the crack in the door of the tiny broom closet for any sign of movement.

"_What's up –"_

"Danny," she whispered fiercely, "someone's in my apartment."

His voice grew firm and serious immediately. _"I'm already on my way. Are you in there, too?"_

"No," she whispered.

"_OK, where are you?"_

She heard his breathing rate increase as he ran, then heard the motor of a car start and roar ominously.

"In the building. Under the stairs. It's raining, I don't want Celia to –" she whispered.

"_No, that's good. Stay there. Just wait. Don't try anything."_

"Wait," she hissed, "Someone's coming down the stairs."

He was quiet, but she still heard his panting breath, the motor of the car he was in.

As Lindsay watched, someone came pounding down the steps, a phone in his ear. The man was grumbling heavily, and reached one hand up and straightened his hideous blonde wig.

Lindsay could barely stop herself from gasping. She held Celia closer, thanking God that the little baby was sleeping against her chest, oblivious to the danger.

The man raced out of the apartment, into the heavy downpour of rain. The door shut behind him with a dull click.

"He's gone," Lindsay whispered into the phone.

"_Stay where you are. There could still be someone in your place. Wait for me to get there. I'm close. A minute or two."_

"Danny," she said, her voice shaking.

"_Don't be scared. I'm almost there."_

She bit her lip and sat back against the wall of the small closet. She listened to his breathing and the heavy roar of the motor, until she heard the actual motor outside her window, along with the flashing lights of the department's silver SUVs. When she saw it, she stood, her wet clothes slapping against her skin, making her shiver.

She walked to the door and opened it, standing under the eave of her building as Danny leaped from the car and ran for her. He grabbed her into a hug, and, before she could say anything, kissed her lips quickly.

"God, are you ok?" he asked, his hands holding her face. "You're freezing… Come here. You can wait in the car until I come back."

"No, I want to go up," she said, still shocked from the feel of his lips on hers. "I want to see."

He frowned, glancing at the baby, cuddled in Lindsay's big jacket.

"If I say it's dangerous, I'm taking you back down, OK?" he said, pulling out his gun. He held it in front of him once they got to her floor, the other hand thrown back to make sure Lindsay stayed behind him.

At the door, he moved Lindsay behind the corner of the wall and stood facing the door. He kicked it in harshly, pointing his gun at the apartment.

Lindsay moved after him as he went into her apartment, his gun still in front of him.

He checked in each room before conducting a more thorough search of the little nooks of the rooms. The apartment was ripped apart, the couch destroyed, tables upturned.

"OK, it looks like it's safe for now," he said to Lindsay, "Now get your stuff, and I'll call Mac and have him send a few people over. And someone to the scene I left."

"You left a scene?" Lindsay said, her voice angry yet still shaky.

Danny shrugged. "There was an officer there. And you were in trouble. Now hurry – get some stuff for a few nights. I want you out of here in case anyone tries to come back. I can get Celia's stuff."

He headed into Celia's room and quickly packed some extra diapers, some clothes, and a few clean bottles into the giant baby bag Lindsay had. He slung it over his shoulder and, on second thought, picked up the blankets in her crib. He headed out of the room into Lindsay's bedroom. Lindsay had Celia in her arms still, and was staring at the closet, not moving. Rainwater was dripping from her body, and she was shivering.

"Linds," Danny said soothingly, "It's OK. You can change. I'll get your stuff together. And you can shower at my place." He took Celia from her arms. The baby was very nearly dry, and Danny kissed her head warmly.

Lindsay headed into the bathroom, shaking. She touched a hand to her lips. Danny was moving so fast, she wasn't sure if he knew what he'd done. She could almost taste him as she drew her bottom lip into her mouth and sucked on it lightly, hoping for a taste of him, a feel of what he used to be to her.

Lindsay shed her cold, wet clothes and dumped them in her shower to dry. She pulled on the sweats and t-shirt she'd brought into the bathroom with her. When she came back into her bedroom, Danny had a backpack over his shoulder along with the baby bag. Celia was in her baby carrier, with a raincoat thrown over the top. He handed Lindsay a raincoat.

"Put it on. It's raining. I got the baby covered. Now come on, we gotta get out of here."

She shrugged on the yellow raincoat and followed him out of the apartment. Danny was on the phone, detailing the break-in to Mac. He explained that he and Lindsay had touched the closets and the baby's room, and that the wet clothes in the shower were Lindsay's. He shifted the duffel bag and baby bag on his shoulder.

He looked up at Lindsay after telling Mac what had happened. "Do you know who did this?" he asked Lindsay, "Was it random?"

She shook her head. "It was one of the men from the hold up at the pharmacy." Her voice wouldn't stop trembling.

Danny's eyes widened. He relayed the news to Mac and shut the phone. "You're staying with me until we get them. We'll come back for more clothes later."

She nodded, too shocked to argue. He led her to the car, fixing her raincoat so it covered her head. He put Celia, who was sitting in her little car seat, into the backseat, double-checking the seat belt that strapped the contraption to the car.

As he drove to his apartment, Lindsay lost herself to the pounding beat of the rain on the roof and windshield of the car. He sped through the slick streets. She realized eventually that he was taking an incredibly roundabout route to his building, and he kept glancing at the rearview mirror.

"Is someone following us?" she asked, turning around quickly, her heart beginning to race.

"No," he assured her, taking her hand, "Just makin' sure."

"They're going to come after us, aren't they," she asked, her voice factual, "They're going to come after me and Celia."

"Lindsay, listen –"

She interrupted him, breathing heavily, her words tumbling out one after the other before she could stop them. "Danny, they're going to come after us. I should go – Montana, I should go to Montana because then they won't know that you're Celia's father, and we'll be safe –"

Danny pulled the car over onto the side of the street. He turned to her. "Listen to me. None of that's going to happen. You'll be safe. I'll make sure of that."

She reached out for him, and he hugged her awkwardly over the center console.

He wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but soon they were kissing, their faces desperately close, Danny's tongue inspecting every crevice of Lindsay's mouth as he reveled in the tiny little whimpers she made.

They broke apart when Celia cried out from her car seat. They stared at each other, neither sure what exactly had happened, how they'd broken the promise they'd made right after Celia's birth.

Danny cleared his throat and reached back into the car seat. He found Celia's hand and tugged on it gently. "I think she's hungry," he said.

"No, that one means she wants to be lifted up," Lindsay said, blinking and reaching back into the carseat. Her hand brushed Danny's, and she jumped lightly. She unhooked the baby and pulled her up into the front seat. She patted Celia's back gently.

"Your hands are shaking," Danny said softly. He reached out to stop them, but she pulled away. "Linds, I –"

"Drop me off at a hotel," she said coldly, cuddling Celia and comforting the little girl.

"Lindsay, c'mon –"

"Danny, drop me off at a hotel. You know we can't do this. I can't do this. There's too much to think about, and we made a promise and we have to keep it," she said shrilly, her voice rising as Celia began to cry.

"Shit," Danny muttered under his breath, and turned to look out the window. "Look," he said out loud, "I'm taking you to my place. At least for the night. Then we'll get you a room somewhere."

Lindsay bit her lip and looked out her window, rocking Celia. The baby quieted as Lindsay continued to rock her. Finally, Lindsay placed her back in the car seat, buckled her in, and waited for Danny to turn into traffic.

"You know how it works," she said softly, "What we agreed to."

"I know," he said, frowning as he pulled back onto the slick, dark street. "Maybe it was a dumb idea."

"It was your idea," Lindsay sighed.

"Well you know what? I was younger then, OK? I hadn't met her yet," he said angrily. "I didn't know I'd love her as much as I do, or how I'd feel about you."

"You said no going back!" Lindsay shouted, "You said we couldn't because it would hurt her, Danny, you said –"

"I know what I said!" he roared.

Celia began to screech from the back seat.

"Pull over," Lindsay sighed. Danny did so again, having moved barely three blocks since the last time. She crawled into the back seat and sat next to the car seat. "Now _that's_ her hungry cry," Lindsay said as the cry evolved into a needy wail.

She pulled the baby out of the car seat and glanced up at Danny. "Don't look," she asked.

"I've seen you topless loads of times," he grunted, but smacked the rear view mirror so it faced upwards, and turned away. The rain fell heavily on the roof, beating a pounding tattoo.

"This is why, you know," Lindsay finally said, as Celia sucked loudly on her breast. "She gets upset when we fight, just like we said she would."

"I know," Danny said in a defeated tone.

"If we're not sorted out, if we have issues like this …"

"Then we can't be together and have her caught up in it. I know. I was the one that said it the first time," Danny said sadly. _Dumb ass idea, _he thought angrily, _I can't believe I was so stupid. _

Lindsay set Celia on her lap, buttoned up her blouse, and threw a rag from the baby bag over her shoulder. She rested Celia on her shoulder and burped her for a little while.

"She's done," Lindsay said, and placed Celia back into the car seat. She pulled up a blanket from the baby bag sitting on the floor and tucked it around the baby. "Everything's fine, baby," she cooed, and kissed Celia's cheek.

"You can sit back there," Danny said, "If you're more comfortable with that or whatever. I'm not gonna try anything, but I don't care if you aren't OK with sitting up here."

"I'm not four years old," Lindsay said, squirming over the center console. She wiggled back into her seat and buckled her seatbelt.

Danny pulled back out into traffic and drove the girls to his home.


	6. Chapter 6

"Shower's in here," Danny said, flipping on the light switch in the bathroom. He avoided Lindsay's gaze. "Towels are in the cabinet under the sink. I have an extra toothbrush –"

"Why?" Lindsay asked, wrinkling her nose.

"I bought two," he replied, "It's still in the wrapper. On the sink, if you want it. Toothpaste is there too." He jiggled Celia, on his hip, who was beginning to fidget.

Lindsay glanced at the little girl in his arms. "You should give her a bath before we put her down to sleep," she asked him.

He stared at her, blinking. "I …" he started, "I don't think …"

"You don't know how?" she asked. Her teeth were chattering wildly.

"Look, you shower first and then show me," he said, turning his eyes away from her again. "I'll just take her into the room I have set up for her and show her around." He was blushing slightly, and he refused to meet her gaze.

Lindsay watched him sadly as he moved Celia from his hip to his chest and walked down the hall to the little bedroom at the end.

She shut the door behind him and quickly undressed, looking around the bathroom as she did so. She turned on the water, testing it with her fingers. The bathroom was clearly masculine – nothing fruity, just a bottle of shampoo on the little shelf in the shower. From what she could see of the rest of the tiled room, there were only a razor, shaving cream, and a bar of soap adorning the sink. A rumpled towel lay on the floor near the clothes hamper.

She smiled and stepped into the shower. She hated to use his shampoo, but found it necessary – her hair was a mess. She had to admit, the smell calmed her – it smelled like Danny, and eased her pounding heart and took her mind from the crevice under the staircase to memories of showering with him, in his old apartment.

He'd moved after Celia was born, to a two-bedroom apartment closer to a good school district. Lindsay had told him that she wasn't making any promises, but as Celia got older, she could stay with him more than their previous agreement stated, maybe go to the school near his place. During the pregnancy, Lindsay and Danny had worked out a schedule: Danny would have the child on Sundays, Lindsay would take care of her for the rest of the week. She'd cried for weeks after they'd crafted it, wondering why he hadn't asked for more.

She dreaded that she already knew the answer: that he hated her. She'd hid the pregnancy from him in the beginning, taking her life one day at a time until it absolutely had to be revealed, and she could still remember his fear-struck face when he'd finally learned the truth. In the weeks that followed, there had been agreements, schedules, and childcare payments sorted out. But no talk of dates. No roses. No congratulations.

Until Celia was born, Lindsay had been sure that Danny thought of his daughter as an agreement, a punishment, maybe, for his fling with Rikki.

But the day Celia was placed into his arms, her fears had faded when Danny had started to cry. He'd cried even more than Lindsay had upon seeing her tiny, wrinkled little daughter with the peach fuzz hair. Danny had plopped himself down on the chair by Lindsay's bed and sobbed, his eyes never leaving Celia's face, as he begged for more days on the schedule, more time with his daughter.

Lindsay had been shocked, staring at him with her mouth open, eyebrows raised nearly into her hairline.

As she squeezed her eyes shut and washed out the soap from her hair, she thought about Danny's tearful, adoring face as he looked at Celia. The one that pushed all the memories of the lonely pregnancy out of her mind, the memory that made her feel like the future wasn't looking so terrible after all.

She shut off the shower and stepped out. She grabbed a towel from under the sink and wrapped it around herself.

She looked around and realized that she hadn't brought clean clothes into the bathroom with her.

She pressed open the bathroom door and leaned out. "Danny," she called, "will you bring me some clothes?"

He appeared from the little room at the end of the hallway, Celia on his hip. He scooped up her bag from the living room and handed it to Lindsay. "Don't be mad, but I didn't fold anything."

Lindsay laughed and shut the door.

She emerged a few moments later wearing plaid pajama pants and a spaghetti strap t-shirt. "I cleaned up your bathroom a little bit," she said apologetically, "and I kind of used your shampoo."

Danny shrugged. "How do you give her a bath?"

Lindsay carefully lifted Celia out of Danny's arms and walked towards the kitchen.

"I didn't bring the baby tub," she said, "but we can make do. If you hold her, we can give her a sponge bath like I did right after she was born."

"Just show me how," he said.

* * *

Danny carefully carried the baby into the little room at the end of the hall. The walls were white and unpainted, but the light blue carpeting was new. The crib was a soft dark wood, and looked completely new as well.

Lindsay's eyes widened as she glanced around the room, from the changing table next to the closet to the dark wood rocking chair in the corner.

"I was going to paint the walls soon," he commented. "I was thinking yellow or something. Maybe green. I dunno."

"It's … wow," Lindsay said quietly, looking around.

Danny laid Celia in the crib, gently smoothing the blanket around her.

"You can take my bed," he said, not moving his eyes from Celia's round face.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said, "I think I'm gonna sleep on the couch."

"OK," she sighed, and turned to go.

"Linds," he said softly. She turned around. "I'm glad you're OK."

* * *

He heard her crying late that night, when it was too late for anyone to be awake. He sat up and looked over at the kitchen clock. It was two in the morning. _If I could do somethin' for her,_ he reasoned, _then I'd go in. But I got nothin' to say that'll make her feel better._ He dropped back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

It was a soft, whimpering cry, like someone holding in a deluge of sobs. It was muffled, as though Lindsay was crying into a pillow. He blinked at the ceiling, trying to focus on what he had to do the next day. _Case report. Check the file on the hold-up. Call Mac. Talk to Flack about the – fuck it._

He rolled off the couch and headed into his bedroom. The door was open just a crack. Danny pushed it all the way to reveal Lindsay. She was sitting on the bed, her knees bent, a pillow sitting neatly on top of them. Her face was buried into the pillow, her arms around it.

Danny softly padded over to the bed, sat down next to her, and took the pillow out of her grasp. She was limp as he lifted her up and onto his lap, adjusting her so her hot, damp face was turned into his neck and her bottom sitting in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her little body and held her while she shook with sobs.

He was fairly certain that he was the cause of her crying, that he'd caused her more harm than he had helped. He wondered if maybe she'd be better off if he left her alone, but he could not chose to do nothing if the woman he'd loved was crying her eyes out on his bed.

Her body was like a little furnace, burning through his clothes where she touched him. He tried to open his mouth and tell her that everything was all right, but found that he couldn't. He wasn't even sure what she was crying about; how could he comfort her?

She lay limply in his arms, sobbing into his neck. She didn't let up for the longest time, nearly an hour of just crying as Danny smoothed her hair, rubbed her back, and kissed her temple.

When her sobs slowed and became occasional hiccups and sniffles, she moved her hands around Danny's broad torso. He glanced down at her, his arms around her body.

Neither wanted to speak, fearful that it would break the hug and remove the warmth of the other's body.

Danny bent down and kissed Lindsay's temple, a lingering, caring kiss.

Lindsay tilted her face up to look at him, her eyes searching his as she sat up a little higher on his lap and kissed the side of his neck, her lips pursed and soft on his skin. She looked up at him again.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek, an inch from the side of her mouth.

She responded by moving in closer to him, and kissing the very edge of his mouth, She held her lips there, feeling as Danny's arm came behind her and held her there before he moved the fraction of an inch necessary to have their lips meet.

They paused there, a long, gentle kiss where neither wanted to move backwards, and both were scared to move forwards.

Finally, Lindsay broke away and rested her head on his shoulder and wiped the drying tears from her eyes. She sniffed and snuggled closer into his body. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He cupped the side of her face and smiled at her. "It's OK."

She stared up at him, her eyes fearful. "What if he comes back?"

"Look," he said, dragging the folded blanket on the end of his bed and wrapping it around her body, "You don't have to worry about that. Stella called me and told me she picked up one of the guys about a block from your apartment, driving around the block. So that's one."

"There were three," Lindsay whispered, her hand reaching up to hold on tightly to Danny's shirt.

"And you put one in the hospital," Danny grinned, "And he's still there. So you got one, Stella got another, and I'll get the third. So don't worry."

"I'm not worried for me," Lindsay sniffed, "What if I can't protect Celia?"

"Well, you're in luck," Danny said, scooting her up further on his lap. "'Cause that's my job, too, you know. She can stay here, and I'll watch her until we get this guy. And if you don't want to stay here, then I can't stop you from leaving. But we'll get you a security detail and no one," he kissed her head, "No one is going to hurt either of you."

She nodded against his chest. "Do we have to …" her voice faltered.

"Have to what?" he asked, smoothing her back with one hand.

"Talk about what we did tonight?"

Danny took a deep breath, looking up to the ceiling in the hopes that the answer to her question would be written there. "How about … we focus on the break in and not think about you and me? I don't wanna make you worry about anything else right now."

There was a rustle as she looked up at him, the blanket slipped from her shoulders. "You mean forget about it?"

He nodded. "For now. And then, when we get this guy in jail, and you feel up to it, we'll talk about it."

She smiled up at him. "That sounds good."

"Try and get some sleep, OK?"

"I can't sleep," she snorted, pulling the blanket around herself and resting her head on Danny's shoulder.

"So I'll stay with you until you do." He scooted himself back until his back hit the headboard. "Get comfy," he told her.

She smiled and got off his lap, immediately regretting the loss of warmth. She wiggled her way under the covers, shoving the blanket she was wrapped in to the side. She placed her head on the pillow next to where Danny was sitting, lying on her back. He remained sitting with his back on the headboard, watching her.

"Are you going to come under the covers?" she asked him.

He brought his hand to rest on her forehead, his thumb rubbing the spot between her eyebrows. "Not for a little while. I'll stay up 'til you fall asleep."

She nodded and closed her eyes.

* * *

She opened her eyes the next morning to find herself thrown over Danny's legs, her head nestled in his lap. His head was tilted to the side, resting on the edge of the headboard. His hands were on her body, one on her back, one on the side of her face. Her entire torso was thrown over him.

She shifted on his lap, attempting to get up.

"Morning," he grunted from above her.

She glanced up, smiling at him. "Morning," she said, "Is Celia up yet?"

Danny shrugged. "I haven't heard her. Stay in bed; I'll go check."

She carefully rolled off of him and cuddled into the warm bed, into the spot he was sitting in before he left. He padded out of the room and returned a few minutes later with Celia.

"She was in her crib, just hanging out."

"She does that," Lindsay said, smiling up at them. Danny sat on the edge of the bed, holding Celia in his lap. "Hi honey," Lindsay cooed, reaching out and touching Celia's belly. Celia let out a shriek of laughter and grabbed onto Danny's shirt to steady herself, despite Danny's strong, reassuring hand on her back.

Lindsay continued to smile at her as she talked to Danny. "Did you bring the breast pump?" she asked, "I need it for when I go to work."

Danny frowned and stopped playing with Celia's little hands. "You can't go to work," he said, "Someone's looking for you."

Lindsay ignored him, instead pressing Celia's hand to her mouth and blowing on it gently, making Celia laugh like crazy.

"Linds, come on. You can't go to work," Danny said.

"If I don't go to work," she said, taking Celia from his arms and setting the little baby in her lap, "Then I will go crazy."

Danny snorted. "If you go to work, then you won't be safe."

"Oh really?" she asked, her eyebrows raising up, "Because I would think that spending my time in a heavily guarded police building would be pretty damn safe."

"I make sure of that myself," Danny admitted quietly.

Lindsay snorted, anger growing in the pit of her stomach. "I think I can take pretty good care of myself and Celia. I've done that for a while now."

"I help," Danny said, offended, "I take her when you let me."

Lindsay knew his statement was true, but couldn't help herself. "Do you wonder, ever, why I have to 'let you?' Is that the way it should be, Danny?" She glared at him, her arms tightening around Celia.

"I'll do anything you want," he said quietly, "You know that. I'd do anything to be around her." He reached out for her.

Lindsay huffed and drew back. "I have to feed her now," she said, her voice edged with sharp steel.

Danny took her arm and pulled her back on the bed. "Will you listen to me? Please?"

"What do you have to say to me?" Lindsay scoffed, "Everything you need to say is to Celia. Not me."

"That's bull. I have to talk to _you, _Lindsay, because I love you and I need to apologize."

That caught Lindsay's attention. She sat still on the bed, Celia in her arms, her eyes staring intently at Danny's clear blue gaze.

"I know I treated you wrong," he started, pulling her onto the bed and helping her lean back onto the headboard, "And I'm sorry. In fact, if I ever saw anyone treat you like that ever again, I'd beat 'em so bad … but it was me. _I_ fucked up, _I_ treated you like shit."

Lindsay took a shaky breath, wondering why he'd chosen now of all times to tell her what she'd been longing to hear for ten months.

"I hurt you," Danny said softly, "And it was for no reason, you know? I didn't even see what I was doing – I thought this was about me, about what was happening to _me_, and you were …" he gestured to Celia, who was watching him with her big blue eyes, sucking on her fist.

"You were pregnant with my daughter. And I resented you for it, because I wasn't ready. And I know …" he closed his eyes briefly, hating the thought, "I know I lost your trust. And that's why you don't let me do everything I can, why you don't leave her with me as much." When he opened his eyes, Lindsay observed that they were glistening slightly, threatening tears.

"I know at the hospital, I told you I wronged Celia. And I did." He took another shaky breath. "But I wronged you, too. And I never admitted that. And I'm so sorry."

Lindsay watched him silently.

He reached out and took her hand, turning it over so her palm faced up. He ran his fingers over it absentmindedly, tracing each of her fingers with his own, drawing circles on the center of her palm. She bent forwards and kissed him on the lips, drawing back before it could progress further. "Thank you," she said, "for saying that."

He smiled briefly, and returned to watching her hand as he played with it. "I know you can't forgive me yet, but will you think about it?" he asked hopefully, flicking his eyes up to meet hers.

She nodded.

"And will you do me a favor and stay with me, at least until we catch the guy who was in your place?"

She laughed at his earnest expression and nodded again.


	7. Chapter 7

"It's just a favor. Just a little, tiny favor. C'mon, Linds, she's my grandmother, and I want her to meet the baby."

"Then take the baby! Take the baby to see your grandmother, OK?" Lindsay said, slamming her kit into the back of the SUV.

"You know it doesn't work like that! You've met her before, you know how she is: she's Catholic, Linds, and she doesn't believe in pre-marital sex. Plus she's been on my back to get a family forever, and she ain't got much time left, so …"

Lindsay glared at him as she slammed the trunk of the SUV shut. "So I have to pretend to be your wife?" she asked bitterly.

"Well, yeah. Just for a little while. It's just dinner! And it's good food."

Lindsay tilted her head to the side, thinking it over. "Well, she is a fantastic cook," she mused. She shook her head. "Danny, it's ridiculous. I can't just go to your grandmother's house and pretend to be your wife."

Following her to the passenger's side door, he stood in front of it, his hand blocking the handle, preventing her from getting inside. "It's just one night, at an old people home. Is that so much to ask? Please?" he asked, "Please?"

She contemplated his desperate eyes, the way he bent his knees so their eyes were level. "Fine," she sighed.

* * *

The door opened swiftly, as though pulled by an ogre or a giant, and a whoosh of air hit Lindsay in the face. Her hand wanted to move up instinctively and shield Celia's face. She glanced down at her baby, nestled in the cumbersome plastic baby carrier in Danny's arms. When she looked up again, a tiny, wrinkled shrimp of a woman glanced back at her.

Lindsay could see traces of laugh lines around the woman's mouth and around the squinted, beady eyes. Her tiny, scrunched face was no match for her stout little body.

"Hi, Mrs. Messer," Lindsay said meekly.

Regina Messer responded by firing a stream of rapid Italian in Danny's direction, then reached out with a brittle cooing sound and nabbed the sleeping baby from the carrier.

Danny rolled his eyes and combated with equally quick Italian, finishing off with a hurried, "And can you please try to speak some English in front of Lindsay?" He put a hand on Lindsay's back and nudged her into the room, dropping the empty baby carrier on the floor and whispering in Lindsay's ear, "I'm sorry in advance."

Lindsay grinned and ignored him, instead following Danny's grandmother into the kitchen.

As Regina fed the baby tiny drops of the thick sauce she was stirring over the saucepan, she spoke to Lindsay and Danny in her heavily accented English. "Why did you not tell me you get married?" she asked Danny, pointing her wooden spoon at him with terrifying accusation.

"We got married in front of a judge, nonna; it was just me and Linds," Danny lied, checking the garlic bread that was roasting in the oven.

"You don't even ask me for my rings? You don't want them?" She dropped the spoon she was holding and pressed the back of her hand to her head. "Dio Santo, Daniel, you don't want my rings? Your papa would be ashamed –"

"I didn't have time, Nonna, OK?" Danny responded, walking over to the little table where Lindsay was sitting.

Regina dropped the baby in Danny's arms and turned to Lindsay. "So? You have other ring? Let me see," she said, holding out a beaten, calloused hand.

Lindsay placed her hand onto Regina's, palms touching, and was surprised to find the older woman's hands were warm and gentle. Regina bent down and thoroughly inspected the ring on Lindsay's hand, on loan from her Aunt Lila.

"I don't like it," Regina declared in her frank, lyrical accent. She glared at Danny and swatted his arm. "You love her, you buy her a better ring!" She then commenced shouting at him in Italian as she wandered back over to the stove and stirred her sauce.

"Nonna, what do you want me to do? We got married already," Danny sighed, patting Celia's back and kissing the top of the baby's head. One of Celia's pudgy fists reached out and clutched Danny's blue button down shirt, and attempted to eat one of the buttons.

Regina looked up and squinted at Danny and Lindsay. "And what is wrong with the two of you? You stand there and you don't look at each other? What you do, Daniel? You fight with her?"

"Why is it my fault?" Danny fought back, gently pulling Celia's hand from his button and rocking her from side to side.

"You don't touch, don't kiss – last time you bring her over, you kiss all the time! When you think I don't look, but I look! I saw you kissing on my couch! Like when you are little boy with your girlfriends – you kiss and you kiss…" She shook the wooden spoon at him. "Now you sit and you talk to me like other one is not there." She made a 'tsk' sound with her tongue.

Lindsay hid her laughter at Danny's shocked 'it-wasn't-me' face.

"You don't kiss the girl anymore, Daniel!" Regina said shrilly, "You think she like that?"

"I'm fine," Lindsay laughed.

"Kiss her," Regina said, frowning at them. She placed her hand on her hip and jutted it out in an angry contrapposto pose. "Kiss her, Daniel."

Nervously looking over at his grandmother, Danny threw Lindsay a helpless look.

Summing up nerve, Lindsay stood and pulled Danny close to her, one hand on his shoulder. With one hand on Celia so as not to crush the baby, she bent forwards and kissed Danny softly.

Later they both would wonder what made them hold the kiss for so long. Danny would wonder how in the hell he got the courage to open his mouth just enough so Lindsay's upper lip would fit so nicely between his. Lindsay would wonder why the taste of him faded all too quickly, despite the kiss' longevity.

With the hand that was not holding Celia, Danny reached down and placed his hand on the small of Lindsay's back, slipping into old habits easily. Lindsay's hand slid from Danny's shoulder to around his neck.

Celia, suddenly faced with Lindsay's shiny necklace, shrieked excitedly and pulled on the gold pendant happily, inadvertently tugging Lindsay further towards Danny

Lindsay broke the kiss reluctantly, breaking away from his mouth gently and slowly. She found herself pulled towards Danny by Celia's little hand, clutching her necklace. She carefully extracted her daughter's hand from the heart shaped pendant. Lindsay smiled shyly at Danny.

"There," Regina said firmly, "You see? Now her eyes, they are not so sad anymore."

* * *

Danny fussed over Celia's baby carrier, adjusting the blanket over her, alternating between draping it over the entire contraption, and tucking it into the sides of her body.

"Which way do you think?" he asked Lindsay as they walked out of Regina's apartment, Celia's carrier in Danny's arms. "Should I put it on top or over her?"

Lindsay peeked into the plastic carrier and tugged Celia's warm knit cap over the baby's ears. "I think either way."

"But what if she gets cold? Wait, I got an idea," he said, and placed the plastic carrier onto the ground. He tucked the blanket into Celia's little body, then shed his own jacket and draped it over the top, leaving him in only his dark blue button down shirt.

"You'll be cold," Lindsay reminded him, nodding her head to the frost lining the glass windows of the Home for the Aging's side entrance.

"Better me than her," Danny said, and wrapped his arms around the carrier and lifted Celia up.

"She'll be outside for all of two minutes," Lindsay giggled.

"Whatever," Danny responded, opening the door with his foot.

Lindsay burrowed into her own coat as the cold air hit them. She glanced up at the sky. "You think it'll snow before Thanksgiving?" she asked.

Danny shrugged as he walked towards his car. "Doubt it. Before Christmas, yeah."

"Speaking of Christmas," Lindsay said, "What are you going to do?"

"I dunno," he responded, "Mac has me on shift."

"You're kidding!" Lindsay gasped, "He did that?"

"Well, he needs someone on, and Stella's busy, Hawkes is going to Miami, and …"

"He didn't ask me," Lindsay said, opening the side door to the car and letting Danny pass her to buckle Celia's carrier into the back of the car.

"Yeah, well, I kinda thought you'd want to be with Celia, so I offered to take the shift," he said.

Lindsay stared him, bent over into the car, fighting the seatbelt and double and triple checking it to make sure Celia was safe for the car ride.

"You did that?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure," he snorted, edging his way out of the car. He glanced at her, looking her up and down. "Watcha doin' waiting out here? Lookin' to get pneumonia? Car's open; get inside." He shut the door to the backseat and opened the passenger door for her, ushering her inside.

"Shoot," she said once she was buckled in the car.

"What?" he asked, sliding in next to her.

"I need to get Celia some diapers. You're all out, and unless we go over to my place and pick some up …"

"No, we'll go shopping," he said with a grimace.

"Go to Target, OK? I want to get her some new clothes."

Danny threw a quick glance over at Lindsay before starting the car. "Ain't she got enough clothes?"

Lindsay gave a mocking laugh. "Babies never have enough clothes. She's always growing, And plus, most of her stuff is still at my place."

Danny sighed. "Look, when Stell comes over to visit tomorrow, I'll run by your place and get your things. Make a list, OK?"

She sighed. "You know, it would be a lot easier for me to just go there and see what I need."

"I don't think –"

"Don't suffocate me, Danny, you know how I hate that," she said dangerously.

"I'll pick you up after work. Stella can babysit. How's that?"

"I can go by myself. No self respecting burglar would show up during the day when everyone's watching, Danny."

"It wasn't a burglar, Lindsay," Danny reminded her, "And I'm going for my sake, not yours, because – God forbid – something happens to you there, I'll never forget it, OK?"

"OK," she said finally, tired of arguing with him.

* * *

Danny followed Lindsay through the large Target building, holding Celia's carrier in his hand. Lindsay expertly found Celia's size in diapers, and dropped it into the cart she'd picked up. "How long is your shift?" she asked, "On Christmas, I mean."

He shrugged. "From like nine in the morning until around three or four, I think. Depending on what cases we get, how much I have to do."

"Well, come over after that, OK? If I have my place back, that is," she said, heading for the infant clothing section. She pulled out some plain onesies and dropped them into the cart, checking roughly to see that they were Celia's current size. She turned around to see that Danny was standing still behind her, staring at her.

"What?" she asked, pushing the cart towards the register and searching for her wallet in her purse.

"I just … thanks," he said.

"Well, you want to see her on Christmas, don't you?" Lindsay asked, setting the stuff down on the register. Danny stepped forwards and pulled out his wallet, waving away her hands as she tried to pay. He handed the clerk his credit cart.

"Yeah, of course," he said, "I just thought you were taking her to Montana, like you said you would earlier."

Lindsay shook her head. "I can't. My parents are going on a trip to Florida, and my brother is visiting D.C. So no one's home."

Danny was ninety-nine percent sure that was a lie. The week earlier, he'd seen an e-mail opened on Lindsay's laptop, and noticing Celia's name in the first sentence, he hadn't been able to help himself. It had been a note from Lindsay's mother, asking why Lindsay had turned down the plane tickets that she and Lindsay's father were willing to send, and had decided to stay in New York. "_I should think you'd want to spend some time away from Celia's father,"_ the letter had stated coldly. "You'll be back at your place by then," Danny assured her.

"I hope so," she sighed, adjusting the blanket around Celia's body. She re-arranged Danny's jacket on the baby carrier before picking it up.

"I got it," Danny said, holding his hands out to her.

She handed it over and took the Target bag from him.

"You can have the bed tonight, if you want," she suggested.

"It's yours 'til we get this guy," he told her, and headed for the car.

* * *

"Lindsay," Stella said, sighing exasperatedly and crossing her arms over her chest disapprovingly, "there is no such thing as a friend kiss."

"Yes, there is!" Lindsay insisted, her cheeks flushing pink.

"You do not kiss your friends on the lips," Stella informed her, "That is just called a kiss. You kissed Danny. More than once, by the sound of it."

Lindsay groaned in frustration. "He gets it. We're just friends. We kiss sometimes. That's it!"

"How long?" Stella demanded, grabbing a tootsie roll from the open plastic bag on the coffee table, "How long did you kiss for?"

Lindsay scrunched up her nose in concentration. "Which time?" she asked slowly.

Stella un-twirled the chocolate candy and popped it in her mouth. "All. Give me a range, here."

Lindsay counted on her fingers. "Well," she said, "Anywhere from five –" Stella yelped – "To thirty seconds."

"A thirty second kiss?" Stella screeched.

"_Friend _kiss," Lindsay corrected.

"That doesn't exist!" Stella exclaimed. She reached out and took Lindsay by the shoulders. She swallowed her candy. "Lindsay, for the love of God, will you just think for a second that _maybe _you feel something for him?"

Lindsay thought long and hard. She opened the floodgates and was besieged by images of Danny's soft eyes when he looked at her, the way he would drop a little cup of hot chocolate on her desk if he knew she wasn't feeling well, his large, warm hands, the feel of his lips on hers …

"Maybe," she murmured softly. She blinked and burst out of her happy bubble. "No. He's Celia's father. It's easier that way. We have an agreement."

"What agreement?" Stella asked, reaching out and picking up her soda.

Lindsay sighed. "We made a … a stupid, stupid agreement. Danny came over one night, when I was about seven months along, to talk about where we stood. And we started arguing like crazy – shouting and screaming at each other about what to do. I wanted to move back to Montana and raise the baby there, he told me he thought I was being irrational, and I told him to … well, it doesn't matter now." She sighed.

"And?" Stella prompted.

Lindsay picked up a tootsie roll and ripped off the wrapper. She rammed it into her mouth and chewed down hard. "The baby started kicking. Hard. I had to sit down. He was nice about it, asking if I needed to go to the hospital and holding my hand until it was over. Eventually, I told him that if we were going to argue like this, then the baby would grow up all messed up." She swallowed the tootsie roll. "And Danny said 'so maybe we shouldn't raise the kid together.'"

Stella stared, her mouth nearly hanging open. "What, like he wasn't going to raise her?"

Lindsay frowned at the bag of candy in front of her. "I know what he meant," she sighed, "I know sometimes … he says things that he doesn't really understand. But I thought what you thought – that he was going to leave me with a kid - and then I started crying, of course – you remember how I was then."

Stella snorted. "Well I'dve cried, hormones or no."

Lindsay propped her feet up on the table in front of her. "He explained it all, said he meant that we weren't providing a good environment for a kid. And he said he thought that we should be apart, because when we were together, all we did was argue."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever –"

"Well he _was _drunk. And he took it back after he said it. Said he'd come back when he knew what he was saying. But I told him I agreed, that it was a good idea for the baby's wellbeing, and we shook on it." She huffed and pulled her knees into her chest. "And now it's set in stone."

"That's not true," Stella said gently, rubbing Lindsay's arm. "I'm sure he'd –"

The door banged open, and Danny walked into the room, holding a large duffel bag in one hand and a smaller, grocery bag sized container in his other hand. "I got your stuff," he said to Lindsay. "All of it. I think. You got more, I'll go get it, but like I said, it's a fuckin' blizzard out there."

Lindsay smiled up at him and stood up, straightening her top.

"Well, that's my cue to leave," Stella said, "It's nine, right? Because I've got a shift to get to."

Lindsay and Stella hugged goodbye as Danny dropped off the stuff in his room. When he came out, Lindsay was frowning at him, her arms crossed.

"I specifically said that I wanted to go and get my things," she said crossly.

"Well, I was in your neighborhood. And, quite frankly, I still don't think you should be running around the city when someone's lookin' for you."

"That's your opinion then. But I will not just sit around in your apartment all day and wait for you like some kind of Stepford wife-"

Danny had trouble suppressing his grin. "Wife, huh?" he asked.

"Shut up," Lindsay said, clearing the plates from the counter and washing them off in the sink. "Sometimes, Danny, it really frustrates me that you can't just let me do what I want. I'm not an idiot. And I've been taking care of Celia for a long time, now, so I don't need someone watching over me like a hawk."

"But it can't hurt, can it?" he asked.

She had no response to that. Once she'd put the plates away, Celia cried out from the bedroom.

"No," Lindsay moaned. She put the plates in the dishwasher and waited tensely.

"You want me to go in?" Danny asked curiously as she made no move to go towards Celia's room. "I'll get her if you don't want to."

Lindsay shook her head. "I want to, that's not it. It's just that the doctor and the baby books say I should help her sleep through the night by not coming in every few seconds after she cries. She might go back to sleep." She waited as Celia's cries elevated until Lindsay finally gave up and walked towards the little room at the end of the hall, Danny trailing behind.

"I don't remember that," Danny mumbled.

"What?" Lindsay asked.

"Nothin'," he responded quickly.

"Hi, baby," Lindsay said softly as she bent down into the crib and lifted Celia into her arms. She rocked the baby back and forth, murmuring gently to her.

"Can I try?" Danny asked, nodding to Celia.

Lindsay smiled and carefully placed the crying Celia into his arms. He kissed her head and rubbed her back gently. "Does she still wake up a lot?" he asked, "In the middle of the night and all that?"

Lindsay shrugged. "Sometimes. It depends."

"Do we need to feed her?"

"I don't think she's hungry," Lindsay said softly.

"Oh," he murmured. "Maybe she's scared," he suggested, "'Cause she's not at your place or something."

Lindsay snorted. "Nothing we can do about that," she grumbled, fixing the soft cloth border on the crib.

Danny sighed. "Lindsay, I'm trying to take care of her, OK? And I'm doin' the best I can. I may not know how to give her a bath, or how long she sleeps at night, but I can damn well stop anyone from hurting her. That much I'm sure of."

Lindsay smiled faintly, watching as his voice, which he'd kept at a reasonable whisper, calmed Celia's cries and her big blue eyes closed as her head rested on Danny's shoulder.

"She's asleep," Lindsay whispered. "You want to set her down…"

"Yeah," Danny said. He bent down over the baby crib and gently laid Celia down, his large hand supporting her neck and head. He laid his hand softly on her stomach as he stood, feeling it move up and down as she breathed.

"I feel like we should put a blanket on her or something," Danny commented.

"We can't, she might –"

"I know, she might hurt her self or something."

She glanced up at him, her face inquiring. "You… you know?"

Danny shrugged.

* * *

Lindsay lay in Danny's bed that night, unable to sleep. The smell of him was everywhere. His t-shirt was on the pillow next to her, where he'd thrown it out of habit after changing into pajamas. His scent was on the pillows, on the bed. And she was wearing his sweatshirt. Hers was still damp from the rain the night she'd come to his place, and he hadn't thought to bring her any from her place. It was a plain, gray sweatshirt, the inside worn. He liked to wear it jogging, for it was thick and heavy. After taking one look at Lindsay, shivering in her thin pajamas and her lightweight shirt, he'd silently grabbed the jacket from his closet and handed it to her.

She twisted and turned in his sheets, unable to rid her mind of the memories of Danny's room when it was less empty and less quiet.

Finally unable to take it anymore, she stood up and headed for the bathroom. As she got up from the bed, the edge of the baggy sweatshirt caught on the edge of the pile of books on his bedside table. The stack tumbled to the floor, and Lindsay instinctively reached out and caught two of them.

"Shit," she muttered, and listened to see if Danny was coming into the room. Hearing nothing, she clicked on the light and started to gather the books together. She read the titles lazily – _Angels and Demons, A Short History of Nearly Everything, The Expectant Father –_ at the last book, she stopped and stared. The book still had the glossy sheen of a relatively new cover, but the edges were bent and worn. As she opened the book and flipped through the pages, she found underlining, notes, and bent pages.

"What happened?" she heard Danny ask groggily. As Danny's eyes adjusted to the light in the room, he saw Lindsay, bathed in the harsh light of his lamp, his book in her hand. She was looking up at him with surprise, and the slightest hint of admiration.

Danny bent down and took the book from her, placing it gently on his bedside table before gathering the other books and placing them on the bedside table. He then extended his hand and helped Lindsay to her feet.

"I didn't know you were reading it," she said quietly.

"I have to do something, you know? See what I missed, what you went through, what Celia's gonna go through, alla that."

"I …" Lindsay swallowed. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?" he asked, helping her into the bed and moving the stuff on his bedside table to the floor.

"That you don't get to see her all the time," she said quietly.

"That's my fault," Danny whispered back, and bent down and kissed her cheek softly. Lindsay turned her head slightly and kissed him on the lips. After a soft, loving kiss, Danny pulled away and smiled at her. "Night," he whispered, and left, closing the door softly behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

Lindsay stomped up the front steps to her Uncle Freddy's house, juggling her phone, the baby bag, her purse, and holding one arm to Celia in the baby sling against her chest.

"Well, Danny, you were working, OK? And it's not a bad neighborhood at all – I _lived _here for three months when I moved to New York!" she complained, hoisting the baby bag further up on her shoulder.

"_Oh, yeah? Really? Well I've been in this city for thirty-five years, Lindsay! I know what's a good neighborhood, and you're not in one. Not to mention, there's some guy out there looking for you, and -"_

"What are you going to do about it now?" Lindsay asked dramatically, "You're at the crime lab, and I'm here, and I'm busy, OK, so –" Celia cried out, startling Lindsay into dropping the cell phone onto the pavement.

"Shit," Lindsay shouted at the sky. Celia's cries grew louder, and Lindsay jiggled and shushed her as she tried to bend down and pick up the cell phone. Finally, due to some intense maneuvering and twisting, Lindsay had the cell phone in her hand. She pressed it to her ear, only to hear Danny's hurried, terrified tone.

"_- going on? I'm on my way, Linds, just tell me what's wrong! Who's there? Are you hurt? Are you –"_

"Do you have to freak out every time you think something is wrong?" Lindsay asked irritably, "I dropped the cell phone."

"'_Course I gotta freak out," _he huffed, his voice calming down considerably,_ "What if something _does _go wrong?"_

"You worry too much," she snapped. "Look, I'm standing outside, so I'm going to –"

"_What the hell you standing outside for? It's freezing, and you're in a bad neighborhood, and –"_

"For the last time, I am not in a bad neighborhood! It is perfectly safe here!" As she yelled, a police car sped down the street, siren screaming. She looked down to see it stop in front of a house a few blocks up. "For god's sake," she sighed. "I'm going in. I'll talk to you soon, OK?"

"_Call me when you're done there. I'm coming to pick you up."_

"You certainly are not. I can get back to your place just fine, thanks so much, and I don't need your help."

"_Doesn't matter if you need it or not. I'm gonna drive over there now if you don't shut up about it, and I'll sit in front of the house until you're done, and if worst comes to worst I'll carry you out of there, you stubborn little –"_

"You don't even know the address!" Lindsay shouted, holding in a laugh.

"_Oh, yeah? Who drove you back there on your second week of work, huh? You remember that, Montana? I got the address in my head, I know where you are."_

"I'm going inside and I'm hanging up," she said firmly, "You're being impossible."

"_You still haven't gone inside?" _he shouted into the phone.

"Good bye!" she shouted back.

"_Bye. Give Celia a kiss for me. And call me when you're done."_

"OK," she said, kissing Celia's head with a smile. "Bye," she giggled, and ended the call.

* * *

"What took you so long?" her mother snapped, standing up from the chair in the corner.

"Hi, mom, it's good to see you," Lindsay shot back. She dropped the baby bag by the side of the door and dropped her phone into her purse. She pulled Celia out of the baby sling and walked over to the couch. She sat down heavily and sat Celia onto her lap. "Where are Freddy and Dad?" she asked.

"Kitchen," her mother said. "Hi, Lindsay," she finally said, remembering her manners. She reached out for the baby. Lindsay hesitantly handed Celia over to her mother. With ease, her mother took the child and rocked her gently. "Hello, honey pie," she smiled. "Why did you name her Celia? It's so … different."

Lindsay knew that, although the words were not an attack, the meaning behind them certainly was. Her mother did not like things that were "different." After the shootings at the diner, they had moved to a new town so that Lindsay would not be the "different" girl at her school, tearing Lindsay away from the friends she had left. Her mother had even gone so far as to buy one color contact for Lindsay's brother, who had one brown eye and one green eye, so that he would be just like everyone else.

"I like it, first of all," Lindsay said, "And so does Danny." The first day of Celia's life, in fact, they'd had to come up with a name. Lindsay had had no idea what to name the baby. In her family, the father had always chosen the name of the daughter. It was Monroe family tradition – fathers named daughters, mothers named sons. The subject of a name had been painful for her. Her father had chosen her name from his best friend growing up, and would tell her the story over and over again of his friend Lindsay. It was her connection with her father, a story he would tell her when they went hiking through Yellowstone, or fishing in Slough Creek.

Danny had known those stories as he sat by her bedside in the hospital, baby Messer in his arms. "Do you want me to name her?" he'd asked softly, mesmerized by the tiny feet that kicked his forearm.

She'd turned to look at him, and a little fraction of the anger she'd kept inside of her had broken off and slipped away. "Yes," she'd whispered.

"Lindsay!" a booming, happy voice sounded from behind her.

"Dad!" Lindsay laughed. She got to her feet and turned around, seeing her stocky, grinning father behind her. She practically skipped over to him, and threw her arms around his neck.

He hugged her tightly, in his typical, bear-hug fashion. "How's m'girl?" he asked.

"I'm good," she smiled, "Happy Thanksgiving, Dad." She turned and gave her Uncle Freddy a hug, a man with the same stocky frame and square head, but with a thick, gray mustache to boot. "Hi, Uncle Fred," she grinned, "Good to see you again."

"What're we waiting for?" her father boomed, "Let's eat!"

* * *

Danny watched the fingerprints flash before his eyes. This Thanksgiving was the first of three holidays he would be missing for Lindsay. His mother had been furious. ("You don't like us anymore, Danny!" she'd whined when he'd told her that he wasn't going to be able to come around for Thanksgiving.) There were also the accumulated hours of overtime, the extra shifts, and the piles of paperwork he'd been doing in Lindsay's absence to allow her to take an extra month of maternity leave, and so that she could ease her way back into work as opposed to going back to full-time.

He was completely uncomfortable with the fact that she was in her Uncle Freddy's neighborhood. He and Flack had gone there only the day before to investigate a triple homicide in a bodega.

He sighed and looked down at the case before him. He was running fingerprints from the break-in to Lindsay's building. They'd collected thousands of fingerprints from her apartment, and so far, all of them had turned out to be either his or Lindsay's although one of them had belonged to a man who was under investigation for a rape case. He'd turned out to be a UPS deliveryman who'd left his fingerprints on a box of baby toys Lindsay had ordered.

After a thorough interrogation of the deliveryman, Danny had been forced to conclude that he had no part in the break-in.

The last robber, who Lindsay had described as chubby and pale, with a backwards Yankees cap, was nowhere to be found. Stella had arrested the man in the yellow wig the night of the break-in, and Lindsay had put the one in the beanie in the hospital, but those two had refused to give up the name of their third accomplice.

Suddenly, the computer beeped. Danny looked up at it. The image of a pasty man in his late 20s flashed on the screen – Dirk Wilson. Danny squinted at the man, then at the sketch artist's rendition of Lindsay's description. He smiled, and stood up quickly. He snagged his phone and dialed Flack's number. "Wanna go for a ride?" he asked when Flack answered.

* * *

"I just don't think she should have that last name!" Betty Monroe shrieked, four hours later, as the Monroe family sat around Freddy's large kitchen table, their stomachs full and their plates clean.

"Why?" Lindsay snapped, "I don't see why that's such a big deal!"

Lindsay's father reached out and took her hand, holding it gently. "Darlin', it's just that he treated you so bad that we don't think he should be a part of your life, or the baby's."

Lindsay snatched her hand away. "Well he is. We're staying at his house right now, and he's being perfectly –"

"You're _what_?" Betty screamed. She stood up with a screech as the chair shot backwards.

Celia started to cry from Freddy's arms.

"Enough," Lindsay said, pushing her chair back, "I can't take this anymore," she muttered, and stood up. "Give me Celia," she said to Freddy. He handed the baby over, and Lindsay stomped off to the front door. She slipped the baby sling over her shoulder, nestled Celia in it, and picked up her bag and her purse. "Thanks for dinner, Freddy. And Dad, I'll call you, OK?" she snapped, glaring at her mother.

Betty walked over to Lindsay. "You're being dramatic! Just calm down and sit with us, Lindsay!"

"NO!" Lindsay shouted, and opened the door. She slammed it behind her and headed downstairs. She hated that, to some extent, they were right. The things Danny had done sometimes still hurt her, no matter how long ago they had occurred. Because although she hated that he had broken off their relationship when she was pregnant, that he had acted like she was to blame, she loved him, too. She loved him because he was Danny, and all the things he did were Danny, and because, sometimes, when he was sitting next to her on her worn out couch and subconsciously rubbing her neck, he was _her_ Danny. The moment she got to the stoop of Freddy's building, she sat down and started to cry.

"Linds?" Danny asked softly.

Lindsay looked up to see him leaning on his car, which was parked in front of the building. He straightened off of the car and walked over to sit next to her. He gently took her bag for her, and her purse, and draped an arm around her. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

She shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I'm fine."

"I have good news, if you want," he said, rubbing her shoulder.

"What?" she asked, her voice watery and sniffly.

"We got the third guy. From the robbery. You can go home, if you want."

Lindsay looked up at him, wiping her tears from her cheeks. "Really?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he smiled, "He's in jail."

"Can I … can I still stay with you? I don't want to go home yet," she asked.

"Of course," he said, smiling at her. He peeked over at Celia, who was sucking her fist in the baby sling, her eyes wide and staring over at Danny. He reached over to her and took her tiny hand in his fingers. "You wanna come stay with daddy?" he asked, smiling at her.

She sniffled and curled her hand around his index finger.

"How was Thanksgiving?" he asked.

Lindsay snorted. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, and struggled to her feet. Danny helped her up, then collected the baby bag and the purse, and helped her to the car.

* * *

"What was his name?" Lindsay asked, taking her purse from the car. Danny grabbed the baby bag and headed around to the back of the car, where he'd installed a car seat. He took Celia out of it, and carefully wrapped her up in his coat to block her from the cold outside.

"Dirk Wilson," he said, slinging the baby bag over his shoulder. He shut and locked the car.

"What was he like?" she asked.

"Why?" he snorted, wrapping an arm around Lindsay and leading her inside his building.

"I want to know," she said, "Did he seem … mad, or anything?"

"Yeah, 'course; Flack and I were arresting him for armed robbery and drug possession. He was pissed."

"I know, but I mean … especially mad." She opened the door to Danny's building and held it so he could walk inside. He grinned and reached out his free hand, jerking his head towards the inside, indicating that she go first. She smiled and walked inside.

He followed her, shutting the door behind him. "You mean, was he mad at _you_?"

"Yes," she said. Danny put his hand on her back and leaned forwards to her ear.

"No," he said, "He's not going to come after you or Celia. He's going to jail."

They walked up the stairs, Danny carefully holding Celia to make sure she didn't wake with the jostling. As he reached his floor, he spotted a package sitting next to his door. He walked over to it, his eyes squinted in suspicion, and bent down to look at it, all the while holding Celia and the baby bag.

_Daniel – Happy Thanksgiving – Mommy_ It read.

"Aww," Lindsay smiled, "Did your mommy give you a present?" she giggled.

"Shut it, Monroe," he grunted, and shifted Celia to his right arm before picking up the package. Lindsay unlocked the door and went inside, Danny close behind.

Danny first dropped the baby bag beside the door, then the package on the kitchen counter, then gently carried Celia to her bedroom. He placed her on the mattress of the crib, and bent down to kiss her forehead. "Love you, baby," he whispered, then headed back to the kitchen.

Lindsay was sitting at the counter, her eyes closed, head in her hands.

"Was seeing your parents really that bad?" Danny asked, grabbing the package and unwrapping it.

"Yes," she muttered.

He tore open the box before him and found a saran-wrapped pumpkin pie. He snorted and picked up the note on top. _Next year, come eat with us, _he read, and grinned.

"Pie?" Lindsay asked curiously.

Danny grinned at her and took out two forks from his drawer. He handed one to Lindsay and dug into the pie.

"You aren't even going to cut it?" she laughed, watching him take a big bite of the pie.

"'Course not," he mumbled through the food, "What, don't you want some?"

She frowned and looked down at the counter, her eyes flicking to her stomach. "I don't think I should eat anymore tonight. I still have some weight to lose…" she mumbled.

Danny dropped his fork onto the table and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at her. "Lindsay Monroe, if you so much as _think_ one more time that you have to lose weight, I will tie you to a chair and feed you cheeseburgers for the rest of your life. Now eat some pie."

She laughed but didn't pick up the fork. Danny scooped up some of the filling and moved it close to her mouth, teasing her lips with it. "Come on," he grinned, "Open up."

She shook her head, clamping her lips together.

"Come on, Montana," he teased, carefully dragging the pie along her lips. The pumpkin filling stuck to her lower lip, and, not wanting it to fall onto her counter, Lindsay poked her tongue out of her mouth and licked the orange treat off of her lip. When her eyes refocused on Danny, she found him staring dazedly at her mouth.

"What?" she asked, giggling.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Look, I should go to bed," he said, suddenly serious. He took one last bite of the pie and headed towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna shower, unless you wanna have a turn in the bathroom before that," he said.

Lindsay shook her head, reddening slightly. Did he think she was being overly flirtatious? She wasn't thinking about it when she did it, but maybe she should monitor her behavior around him. She tried to force the redness on her cheeks fade by thinking of something else, but all that occupied her mind was Danny's frown after he'd finished admiring her.

Danny quickly headed into the bathroom. He ripped back the shower curtain, flicked on the water, and tore off his shirt. He had to be stronger. He had to stop himself in the future, because if she ever did something that sexy again, if he ever saw that soft pink tongue peek out from her lips, he would not be able to stop himself. He shed his pants and boxers and kicked the dirty clothes over to the hamper before stepping into the shower. The water was too cold, but maybe that was a good thing. He shivered into the water as it warmed up slightly.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to rid his mind of the image of that pretty pink tongue, trying to avoid the associated images that held, of Lindsay kneeling between his legs, a pleased, sly grin on her face.

As he ran shampoo through his hair, he heard a soft knock on the door.

"Yeah?" he called out.

"It's me. I just want to brush my teeth. Are you …"

"I'm in the shower."

"I know. I won't look," she promised, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Fine," he sighed, "C'mon in."

Danny peeked out from behind the curtain, holding the blue sheet over his body as he watched her. She had a hand over her eyes, and was feeling her way to the sink, a big smile on her face.

"You're covering your eyes?" he chuckled, his voice loud over the hiss of the shower.

"I don't want to infringe on the lady's privacy," she giggled, feeling her way to the sink. On the way, she nearly tripped over the clothes that he'd lazily kicked towards the hamper. Danny nearly stepped out and caught her, but soon saw that she had righted herself.

"Did you just call me a lady?" he snorted, shaking water droplets from his hair.

"Well, you're acting like one," she laughed, and caught a toothbrush on the sink.

"That's mine!" he called out to her, staring at the silver toothbrush in her hand.

"Don't be such a baby," she chided, but put the toothbrush down on the sink and felt around for another. She finally caught the dark red toothbrush that she'd unwrapped upon temporarily moving into Danny's place. She squirted a glob of toothpaste on the brush, taking her hand off of her eyes to reveal that she had scrunched her eyes tightly shut.

Danny grinned at how cute her face was, and couldn't resist flicking some water at her. She flinched and opened her eyes. "Hey, that was –" she shouted, cut off by the sight of Danny's water-sprinkled, muscled torso, bisected by the heavy shower curtain.

Danny grinned at the reaction he had on her, but went back behind the curtain and pulled it shut. "Don't be such a baby, Montana, it's just a little water."

"Hmph," Lindsay frowned, and bent down to pick up his dirty clothes. She dumped them in the hamper in the corner, shaking her head at the amount of clothes that had piled up there. "Don't you ever do laundry?"

"Guess not," he said, washing shampoo out of his hair. He forced himself not to think about the fact that he was naked, and Lindsay Monroe was nearly two feet from him and wearing only a baggy t-shirt that came to her thighs. Her soft, milky thighs. Her smooth, sweet thighs. He couldn't think about it. Instead, he forced himself to think about Celia, and how she would grow up with parents who were thinking only about her wellbeing and not about … about what? About love? Could he really demand that of himself, to spend a life not loving Lindsay? It was a knee-jerk reaction to love that woman, with her cute smile and her gentle hands. But he'd hurt her. He'd hurt her in the past and he'd never forgive himself if he did it again.

Lindsay washed her mouth out and dropped her toothbrush back on the sink, next to Danny's. She'd slipped into a comfortable routine upon living with Danny – not having to make breakfast (he made her coffee and bought croissants for her each morning), not having to make dinner (he made something new every night), and not having to worry about Celia (at the slightest cry, Danny was at her side). She was going to miss it when she went back to live by herself. She sighed and left the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

She went to say goodnight to Celia, then headed back into Danny's bedroom and slipped into the bed.

After a few minutes, Danny came in, wrapped in his towel, and grabbed some clothes from his closet, which seriously interrupted Lindsay's attempts to go to sleep. She watched the way the soft light from the street played on his naked chest, on the soft curves of his muscles …

He peeked over at her and saw that she was awake. "Oh," he grinned, his infamous smirk gracing his mouth, "I thought you were sleeping."

She shook her head and shivered slightly, imagining how warm his dampened skin would feel after the shower, how his smooth, large hands would feel on her body.

"You cold?" he asked, and tugged some sweats from his bottom drawer. He walked over to the bed, balancing his clothes and the sweats in one hand, holding the towel around his waist in the other. He dropped the sweats onto her bed and bent down. She tilted her head up to meet his, and they softly kissed goodnight.

It was a taste. Just a tiny sliver of what their lives would be if they were in a normal relationship. Neither could resist. But somehow, although they would give anything for that platonic 'friend kiss,' they always seemed to feel worse when it was over.

"See you in the morning, Montana. We'll get your place set up again, OK? I'll help you get some kind 'a security system set up," he grinned, standing up and heading towards the door.

"Thanks, Danny; Goodnight," she said, and, after he closed the door, whispered, "I love you," in a dreamy, soft voice. _Snap out of it,_ she told herself, and buried her face in the pillow, trying to get the image of his smooth, wet chest out of her head.


	9. Chapter 9

Lindsay bit her lip and carefully applied paint to the wall, trying to get the perfect amount to cover up the chip on her wall.

Suddenly, Danny's arm reached around her body, his chest at her back, and snagged the paintbrush from her hand. "I said I'd do that," he frowned, "The paint is toxic."

Lindsay laughed at his concern, but moved away and let him take over. She went over to her kitchen and washed her hands in the sink. She looked out over the ruin that was her apartment. She and Danny had decided to re-do the majority of the decorations. Lindsay was completely receptive to the idea. Some part of her felt as though, if her apartment was completely different, then it would be as though she had moved to a building that hadn't been broken into, that hadn't been robbed.

She glanced over at Celia, who was in the baby gym on her back at a corner of the kitchen. She was wearing her fire-truck onesie, and was kicking her little feet up and hitting at the soft toys hanging from the bar of the gym.

Lindsay sighed and started picking up pieces of the broken lamp on the floor, picking up the big, jagged porcelain parts that would be hard to sweep up.

Danny glanced back to look at her. "Linds, careful, they're sharp," he said.

Lindsay frowned at him. "Danny, what _can _I do?" she snapped.

Danny shrugged and turned back to painting the parts of the wall that had been chipped when the burglar had ripped off Lindsay's paintings and picture frames. "Why don't you take Celia out and get something to eat?"

"In the apartment, Danny," Lindsay huffed, "What can I do _in the apartment."_

"You can … uh … make the bed, I guess," he said, moving on to the next chip on the wall.

Lindsay snorted and shook her head. She picked up the sharp pieces and dropped them in the trash can before picking up a broom and pan and sweeping the rest of the pieces up.

"Hey, can you turn the heater up?" she asked Danny, "It's freezing in here."

He looked at her with a questioning look on his face. "You're cold?" he asked.

She took one look at his short sleeved gray t-shirt, and his baggy jeans, and then down at herself, in a long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and a heavy sweatshirt, and laughed. "I'm freezing, Danny."

He grinned and went over to the thermostat, and raised it a few notches. "You think Celia's cold?" he asked, walking over to the wall again to finish up the painting.

"I doubt it," Lindsay smiled, "that little outfit she's got on is pretty warm."

"I know, but … you know," Danny said, glancing over at Celia's kicking, gurgling form.

"I'll get a blanket," Lindsay said, grinning at Danny's concerned expression. She walked over to her closet and stood on her tiptoes, reaching up for the smaller blankets that she kept up high on the shelves. She wiggled, trying hard to reach the blanket, finally pulling up on the wall and standing on her tippy tiptoes.

She felt a hard, warm surface behind her as Danny reached up and brought down the blanket, handing it to her. He fought the urge to kiss Lindsay's neck, grinned instead, and returned to painting the wall.

Lindsay shuffled over to Celia and bent over. She stuck her tongue out at the little girl, who laughed a bubbly giggle and kicked her feet. Lindsay shook out the blanket and laid it on top of Celia's lower body.

"Make sure she doesn't move it over her face," Danny cautioned, "she might –"

"I _know_," Lindsay huffed, and stood up. She started cleaning up the soil from the plant that had been smashed against her counter. The pieces of the pot the plant had been growing in had been taken in and processed, leaving a clump of potting soil and a loose fern. She frowned at the sight of the weak-looking plant, and got out a small ceramic pot from her top cabinet. She scooped the soil into the jar and carefully planted the fern.

* * *

That night, Danny and Lindsay relaxed on Lindsay's worn blue couch, watching _The Crawling Eye._ Lindsay's eyes were wide, Danny's were half-lidded and tired. After fixing up the paint on Lindsay's wall, Danny had righted her dresser from where it had been shoved to the floor, had hung what seemed like thousands of pictures and picture frames, had cleaned up broken glasses, plates, and pots, and then had installed a security system and two new locks on Lindsay's door. He was tired out of his mind.

Lindsay had suggested that he stay at her place for the night, because she was worried that he'd fall asleep while on his bike, and would crash. He hadn't slept in his own bed in almost a week. But that didn't matter, because he was lying on a couch with Lindsay resting against him. Her head was on his shoulder, and if he glanced down at the right angle, he could practically see down her shirt. Had they been going out, Danny would have taken advantage of that particular situation. He would have stopped the movie, flipped her onto her back, and ground his growing erection into her body before kissing her thoroughly.

But this was not the case, clearly. He knew it was pathetic – immature and childish. He was reminded of the times he'd spent as a teenager, on dates at the movies where he'd try to sneak a glance down at the head cheerleader's skin-tight top.

He forced himself to turn his eyes back to the screen. The moment he did so, a shuddering sound slammed through the apartment, and they were surrounded by silence and dark as the lights and the television shut off. Danny felt Lindsay immediately straighten off of his shoulder, then instinctively reach out to him. He felt her hand brush his face as she almost backhanded him in her frightful, impulsive grab for him. Her arms snapped tightly around his neck, and her body pressed up to his.

"What was that?" she whispered, modulating her voice to match the sudden, incredible silence that had swept through the apartment.

"I think the power went out," Danny said back.

A cry erupted from behind them, a loud, screeching wail.

Danny felt Lindsay's heart pounding, as her chest was pressed tightly against his. He loosely wrapped his arms around her waist to comfort her, and looked around uncertainly. "Where do you keep the flashlights?" he asked.

"Th-there's one in the cabinet under the tv," she whispered, "It's one of those radio-flashlights, so it's a huge hunk of plastic."

"OK, I'll go get it," he said, and attempted to pull himself off of the couch. He found, then, that he was clamped to the couch by Lindsay's frighteningly tight grip. "Uh, Linds?" he said.

"What?" she hissed fearfully.

"I gotta get up."

"Yeah, sure." Her grip did not waver.

"Linds, I gotta get the flashlight."

"Uh-huh."

"So you gotta let go."

"Oh," she said nervously, suddenly aware of herself, and reluctantly released her grip around his neck and body. He eased himself up off of the couch, and felt his way around the coffee table towards the television. His hands fumbled blindly until he hit what felt like a drawer, and he tugged it open. He reached in, his fingers scraping on the wood bottom, and found a huge, heavy chuck of plastic. He pulled it out, felt around it for the switch, and clicked it on.

Light blasted through the tip of the flashlight, illuminating the wall. Danny whipped it around, pointing it to the side of Lindsay. He briefly caught her terrified expression before she stood to her feet and walked over to him, her pathway illuminated by the soft glow of the flashlight's beam. Danny reached out, and she took his hand as they walked into Celia's room. Danny glanced out her window, and saw that the entire street outside was black. Not a single light, besides the weak, eerie eyes of the cars that zoomed down the street, appeared outside. The sky was a dark, smoky gray. He squinted outside, and realized that it was snowing.

He directed the flashlight a bit to the side of Celia's crib, so as not to blind her, and Lindsay bent and picked up the screaming baby and shushed her softly. Lindsay patted the baby's back and rocked her gently. Danny wondered if the quiet words she was uttering were for the baby's, or for her own comfort.

"Shh-shh, baby, everything's going to be fine," Lindsay murmured, "It's just a little bit of dark. Nothing is wrong. Everything will be better in just a few minutes."

Danny walked over to her and gently, hesitantly rested his arm around her shoulder. She laid her head on his shoulder, her voice growing more confident as she calmed Celia.

Danny flicked on the radio on the flashlight, wondering if something would tell him what had happened. He scanned through the channels until he caught part of a broadcast.

"_- in the Manhattan area. Blackouts have been reported in several neighborhoods, predominantly on the upper east and west side, although several other neighborhoods throughout Manhattan have also reported loss of power due to the snowstorm that is sweeping across the East coast. Authorities are advising the public to stay calm and warm. Power is expected to return in less than twenty-four hours."_

Danny lowered the sound and turned to Lindsay. "See? Everything's fine. Just a blackout," he said.

He could see her frown even in the dark, and smirked. "I know," she huffed, although he could feel her press herself against him a little more.

"Do you want me to stay in your bedroom in case –"

"Yes," she said quickly.

"And do you want me to bring something for Celia to sleep in so -"

"Yes," she interrupted.

Danny smiled. "OK," he said, "You got any other flashlights? 'Cause maybe we could try to find some candles to set up in your room so we don't have to keep these on all night."

She nodded and placed her hand over his. She directed the beam of light towards Celia's closet, and walked over to it, jiggling the baby in her arms. She reached into the closet, on the shelf that held Celia's small collection of shoes, and pulled out a small flashlight.

"You take this one," Danny said, handing her the large flashlight, "And I'll take the small one. Try and find some extra blankets, too," he said, "If the heater is off for a long time, things could get cold."

Lindsay nodded and exchanged flashlights with him. She headed out into the main area.

* * *

Danny carefully arranged the playpen in the corner of Lindsay's room, between the bed and the wall. He took out the small stuffed animal collection that Lindsay had tossed in, and set the toys on the floor. He folded one of the blankets Lindsay had found to the size of the playpen, and tucked it into the corners of the playpen.

Lindsay hurried into the room, the bobbing flashlight beam announcing her arrival, and set the water bottles and clothes she'd been carrying on the bed. She then carefully laid Celia on the covers of her bed, and changed Celia out of the light pink sleeper that the baby had been wearing.

"Woah, what're you doing? She'll freeze," Danny said, glancing over at Celia, who was watching wide eyed and fighting Lindsay's attempts to dress her.

"I'm putting on an undershirt," she explained worriedly, "And then something warmer. And then I think I'll put her in the bunting –"

"What the hell is a bunting?" Danny asked, looking at her as though she was about to cover the baby in vaseline or cockroaches.

"It's like a sleeping bag," Lindsay said, quickly tugging a thick flannel sleeper onto Celia, "Unless you think that's too much?" she asked, looking up at Danny.

Danny frowned down at the baby, who was observing with wide eyes how her arms were not as free once encased in two thick layers of clothing. "I think she's warm enough now," he said, and walked over to the bed. He gently lifted Celia up and kissed her head before carefully placing her in the playpen.

"I couldn't move the crib," he explained, "I woulda had to've taken it apart before bringing it in here, so I just folded up the playpen and slid it in here for her to sleep in."

"That's fine," Lindsay said, grabbing the water bottles and crawling up her bed to the headboard. She placed the water bottles on the bedside table and pulled her knees into her chest.

"I'm gonna turn the heat off," he said.

"It won't matter if you do," Lindsay said, watching his flashlight beam as it bobbed across the room. He headed to the bed, shining the light on the candles and matches Lindsay had brought in earlier. He set them in the candle holders and plopped one down on the bedside table.

"I know it's not working now, but when the power comes back on, she's gonna burn up in all those clothes," he said, jerking the flashlight in Celia's direction.

Lindsay finally consented, murmuring a quiet 'yes' to the dark room. Danny's flashlight disappeared for a moment as he went to the hallway and clicked the heater off. He returned and sat down, watching Lindsay light the candles on the bedside table. He took one of the candles from her, set it on the other side of the bed, and lit it.

"There," he said, watching the candle flicker and shimmer in the dark room, "How's that?"

Lindsay bit her lip worriedly, knowing he couldn't see her, and managed a squeaky, "Great."

Danny snorted and leaned back on the covers, crossing his arms over his chest. "What, are you really scared or something?"

She nodded and hesitantly crawled over to him. She cuddled up to his side, resting her head in the curve of his neck and tucking her knees up tightly to his thigh. Danny was surprised, though not at all rejecting of her show of affection. He comfortably loped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her in closer. "It's just a power outage. What's the big deal?"

Lindsay was silent for a moment before answering. "In Montana, when the power goes out, you're all alone. It's just you and your house. My first house was ten miles from my neighbors, in every direction." She shivered. "It's like everything's empty, and there's no one there to fill it up."

Danny hugged her to his side. "I'm here. Celia's here," he said soothingly, "You aren't alone."

"I know," she whispered, "But I still feel like I am."

Danny rubbed her head softly, before kicking back the covers with his feet and pulling her down into them with him. He pulled the heavy quilt over Lindsay's shoulders, and pulled her in to his body so their faces were nearly touching, their bodies entwined. "I can turn one of the flashlights on again," he suggested.

She shook her head. "This is fine," she said dreamily, caught up in the way the candlelight played on his angular features, how it caught the edge of his jaw and the cut of his nose. The fear ebbed as she began to see the soft glow of the candlelight in the room around her. She reached out and took Danny's hand, a mere two inches from her. He squeezed hers tightly.

"Do you miss it? Not the loneliness, but the state," Danny asked.

"What?" Lindsay asked curiously, wiggling a fraction closer to Danny.

"Montana. Do you want to go back?" he asked. Lindsay could sense a hint of nervousness, of fear in his voice. She'd mentioned the idea of raising the baby in Montana a few times when she was pregnant. Each time, Danny had snorted and turned away from the conversation. He'd refused to talk about it.

The truth was, she'd had no plans of moving to Montana. The first time she'd had the idea, she'd been walking up the steps of the crime lab, and had seen Danny making out furiously with one of his girlfriends, against a pillar in front of the lab.

She realized, then, that if the twisting, stab-wound pain in her gut was going to come up each time she saw Danny with someone else, then she'd have to leave. She'd have to get out of New York, because each time she saw him, and realized that he was no longer hers, the pain was almost too much to bear.

"My parents want me to go back," she sighed, "They want me to live with them."

Danny's hand tightened around hers. "Oh, yeah?" he asked, feigning curiosity to mask the panic in him.

Lindsay nodded. "They have a room in the house for me, and one for Celia. My mom thinks it's better for me. She thinks I'm unhappy here, and that Celia would be better off around a stable family." She hadn't meant to tell him that, ever. Her mother had brought it up at Thanksgiving dinner.

"And … uh … what do you think about that?" he asked, moving closer to her. Their knees were touching now, and their faces were centimeters apart.

"She has a family _here_," Lindsay smiled.

A huge grin split across Danny's face, made brighter by the candle's glow. "Damn right she does," he chuckled. He frowned briefly as a though crossed his mind. "Linds?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she said, suddenly sleepy. The environment was too comfortable for her tired eyes – the warm blankets, Celia's quiet snuffling behind her, heat radiating from Danny's body, his hand in hers, his legs against hers.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mm-hmm," she hummed.

"Why did you give Celia my last name and not yours?"

Lindsay's eyes fluttered open. She met his gaze. She swallowed. Her eyes momentarily flicked to the right, as if she could look over her shoulder and see Celia resting in the playpen. "Well, I wasn't … I wasn't sure if she'd have … if she'd know …"

"You didn't think I'd be around?" Danny asked, pain seeping into his eyes.

Lindsay avoided his gaze. "Yeah," she breathed. Her hand grew limp in Danny's grip, and she scooted a little further back from him. "I wanted her to have something of yours. Because I couldn't give her … a father."

"She always had a father," Danny said softly. "Linds, I never woulda left. I wasn't going anywhere. I was just scared. I didn't know what was going to happen, and I didn't want my life to change. But I never woulda left."

Celia made a small, inquisitive sound from the playpen. Danny sat up and looked over at the playpen, where Celia was trying to grab at her feet. The heavy layers of clothing she was wearing barely allowed her to bend her legs up. She wiggled and squirmed, gurgling and trying to get her feet.

Lindsay turned and looked at her, letting out a small laugh. "She likes to suck on her feet," Lindsay explained.

"Nasty," Danny said, wrinkling his nose.

"Why?" Lindsay laughed, "It's not like she walks on them. She's only four and a half months, Danny."

"Speaking of, her five month birthday is coming up."

Lindsay laughed tiredly. "What kind of birthday is that?"

"When she turns five months," Danny explained, watching Celia try to roll over onto her stomach in her thick layers of clothing. "December 23rd, her five month birthday."

Lindsay laughed. "You don't honestly think that we're going to have a party to commemorate that."

"Yeah, why not?"

"What kind of party would that be? She can't eat cake, she has no friends, she can't speak, and the most fun she has in a day is often comes from taking off her socks. Do you still want to have a party?"

Danny chuckled. "I guess not. But can I take her? On the twenty third?"

"Sure, why not?" Lindsay said, "Are you off then?"

"Yeah, I got the whole day free."

"What are you going to do with her?"

Danny shrugged and lay back down on the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe take her to the park, or shopping or something."

"Danny Messer is volunteering to go shopping? With a crying, cranky baby?"

"Who said cranky? She doesn't cry with me. She loves me," he joked.

Lindsay laughed, remembering the time Danny called her in a panic while he was supposed to be babysitting, asking why Celia wouldn't stop crying and wondering if he should take her to the hospital. "She does love you, though," Lindsay said shivering as she looked out of the window at the snowy night.

"You cold?" Danny asked worriedly, pulling up the blankets.

Lindsay thought of the freezing snow, and saw frost forming on the glass. Her teeth began to chatter. Danny, without thinking too much into it, pulled her body close to his own and hugged her to his chest. She cuddled into him and rested her head on his chest, the cold forgotten as his warmth bled into her. "Thanks," she said, the chattering in her teeth dying down. Danny hugged her tightly and kissed her head. "We should sleep," he said, "It's late."

She nodded and tucked her head under his chin.


	10. Chapter 10

**Rated M ... finally.**

* * *

Lindsay touched the tip of the top branch of the little tree Danny had brought over the night before, after taking Celia out to dinner. Lindsay had thought the idea was ridiculous - who takes a five-month-old out to dinner? All Celia ate was breast milk and a few bites of Gerber baby food. But after seeing the look on Celia's face as Danny brought her home, hearing her laugh as Danny tickled her and kissed her toes, she'd realized that all Danny had wanted was a little one-on-one time with his daughter.

She'd decorated the tree with the small box of Christmas ornaments her mother had sent her. Since she'd moved to New York, she hadn't had time to set up a tree. She hadn't had her own tree in nearly four years. Danny, upon finding out that particular fact, had dragged her and Celia out to buy a tree. The result was a tiny fir tree, twinkling and glowing in the corner of Lindsay's apartment.

She sat Celia onto her lap as she sat on the couch and picked the warm bottle off of the counter where she'd placed it. She held it to Celia's lips just as the door clicked open.

"Did you forget to lock your door?" Danny asked, shaking snow from his jacket. "That's dangerous, Linds, you gotta lock it." He kicked off his shoes and sat down on the couch next to Lindsay. "She not hungry or something?"

"I don't know," Lindsay sighed, "Doctor still says she needs to eat more." She pressed the tip of the bottle to Celia's mouth.

"Doesn't she like breastfeeding better?" Danny asked.

"Sometimes," Lindsay admitted.

"Well, try that," Danny suggested, tickling Celia's cheek with his finger.

Lindsay frowned at him. He looked up at her and chuckled at her glare. "What?" he asked.

"I just pumped. And I'm really … sore right now, OK?" She sighed and glanced down at Celia, who was resisting the bottle. "OK. Just…" she frowned and started to unbutton her shirt.

Danny, noticing her discomfort with his presence, stood up and headed into the kitchen. He started making something for dinner, smiling at Lindsay's recent habit of piling plates up in the sink. "What have you been eating – is that half a plate of unfinished food? Why didn't you eat the whole thing?" he called out.

"What are you talking about?" Lindsay yelled back.

"You barely ate anything on these plates, Montana," Danny scolded, cleaning up the plates and dropping them into the dishwasher. "How does pasta sound?"

"Good," she yelled back, "Oh, can you make that sauce you made that one time? The time before we went out to see that movie?"

"What movie?"

"The one by the guy from Knocked Up …"

"Superbad?"

"Yes! That was it."

"The pesto sauce?"

"Yes, please!"

"Gotcha," Danny laughed and searched her fridge for the right ingredients. "Hey at least you got more stuff in your fridge than last time. I mean Jesus. You had practically nothing."

"Well, my personal shopper was kind of awful at his job," Lindsay retorted.

"Maybe your personal shopper needed to be told when and what to shop for, you ever think of that?" Danny responded, taking out the cheese grater and grating the cheese into a bowl.

Lindsay came into the kitchen a few minutes later, a content Celia in her arms. She put the baby down onto the tiny play gym sitting in a corner of the kitchen and got out two cups from the cupboard and filled them with water. She handed one to Danny, who took a sip.

"So, I was thinking," Danny said, "Why don't we take her down to Rockefeller Center and show her the tree?"

"Tonight? Christmas Eve?" Lindsay asked dubiously, "Doesn't it get really crowded?"

"Yeah, but whatever. She should see it." Danny glanced up at her with a slight pout. "Please?" he asked.

Lindsay laughed and agreed. "But we can't stay out too late – she has a bedtime," she said. She glanced over at Celia, who was reaching up for the plush star shape that hung from the top of her play gym. She kicked her feet and laughed, the sound bubbling through the room. Lindsay glanced over at Danny, whose smile widened as he heard the sound.

"She's got a good laugh," he said, washing basil in the sink.

"She gets that from you," Lindsay commented, getting out the food processor for him.

"Oh, yeah?" Danny said, grinning at her.

"Yeah," Lindsay laughed. They cooked together at the counter, their hips and elbows occasionally bumping, sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose.

He used to cook for her now and again when she was pregnant. There were times, after a later shift when she could barely walk out of sleepiness, that he would take her home and make her a meal. He'd make sure she ate it – Sheldon was always complaining to her how she had never gained enough weight – and then help her get into bed. She'd often be so tired that she'd doubt, in the morning, that it had actually happened. It was a remnant of their previous relationship, something that neither could really let go of. The hardest part for Danny was always leaving – seeing Lindsay curled up under the covers with that rounded stomach pushing the blankets up into a smooth half-circle. More than a few times, he'd debated sliding in with her just to see what would happen. But he would leave, always, because it wasn't his house and he'd lost his chance for that life, and he'd go out and get drunk. He was often at a bar during her pregnancy, contemplating the things that he'd loved and lost. He'd been at a bar the night she gave birth – or, about to go into one.

He'd been talking to her outside of the crime lab – or yelling, rather. A discussion about the evidence in a case had turned into an all out screaming match, and then he'd given a frustrated gasp and turned away from her, heading towards the bar two blocks down.

And then he'd heard her soft, hissing groan, and he'd turned so fast that his head spun. Lindsay had murmured a quiet, "Oh, God," and had placed her hand on her back, gritting her teeth in pain.

Danny had taken a squad car, not entirely legally, and he'd practically carried her into the passenger seat and raced off to the hospital, lights flashing. He'd been suspended for a week after taking that car, which was the single reason he was able to stay in the hospital while Lindsay recovered.

Sometimes he wondered if that was the turning point. That quiet, fearful, "Oh, God," from Lindsay marked the end of one life and the start of a new. He'd been horrifically frightened, those first two hours of his new life, as he held Lindsay in his arms while she'd writhed in pain, clutching at his hands, his sins forgotten, as she begged and pleaded with him to make the labor pains stop. But feeling Lindsay's small hands in his (even if she was squeezing his hands so hard that he was sure they would break) and seeing Celia's red, wrinkled little face, he knew that he would never, ever want to turn back. Even if, after the birth, Stella had angrily shoved him out of the room with a quiet, "You don't deserve this."

"Is it done?" Lindsay asked, watching Danny absentmindedly stir the pasta in the boiling water.

Danny broke out of his reverie and looked over at her. She was sitting on the floor next to Celia, watching the baby play with the play gym.

"Yeah, it's done," he smiled, and fixed Lindsay a plate of pasta. "You wanna eat at the table or on the couch?"

"How about the couch? We can feed Celia some of the baby food, see if she'll take it," Lindsay suggested.

"Sure," Danny said, putting the plates down on the counter before helping Lindsay up. He bent down and picked up Celia, setting her on his hip.

* * *

"Wow," Lindsay said, bursting into the apartment, her cheeks pink and snowflakes melting in her brown hair. "That was beautiful!" she sighed, the image of the immense, twinkling tree surrounded by flurries of dancing snowflakes permanently burned in her memory. They'd stood under the tree for a good hour, Danny holding a bundled Celia in one arm, pointing up at the lights and sharing a hot chocolate with Lindsay.

"I told ya it'd be a good idea," Danny grinned. He walked into the room with her and shut the door behind him, locking it. He carefully supported Celia's sleeping body, tucked into the baby sling against his chest, and smiled down at her. "You think she liked seeing the tree?" he asked, rubbing Celia's back.

"I think so," Lindsay giggled, "I mean, sometimes it's hard to tell. She can't really voice her opinions that well." She leaned down into the baby sling against Danny's chest. Danny took a deep inhalation, breathing in the scent of Lindsay's orange and vanilla shampoo. Lindsay touched Celia's cheek softly. "But she was laughing a lot, especially at the lights."

"Good," Danny said quietly, smiling down at his girls. "Look, I'm gonna put her in the crib," he said. He extracted Celia from the baby sling and walked carefully into the nursery. He gently laid Celia down on the crib mattress, bending down to kiss her forehead.

"Night, gorgeous," Danny whispered to her, carefully adjusting her baby sleeper, "I love you."

Lindsay peeked her head in the room. "Do you want something to drink? Tea or something?" she whispered, mindful of Celia.

"Yeah, sure," Danny said, walking carefully out of the room. He closed the door until it was only open a fraction of an inch, and walked out into the kitchen after Lindsay.

She was pouring water into a teapot as he came into the room. She looked up and smiled at him. "Thank you for taking her. And thanks for the tree," she smiled, gesturing towards the tiny, decorated tree in the living room.

"No problem," he smiled.

Lindsay smiled back at him. "Oh, will you grab the tea bags from the top shelf? I can't really reach," she admitted.

"Yeah," he grinned, and opened the top shelf of the cupboard and pulled out the small basket of tea bags. As he tugged it out, what looked like a ragged leaf cluster tumbled to the floor. He set the tea on the counter and bent down to pick it up.

"Oh," Lindsay whispered, her face flushing pink as she bent down to snatch it off of the floor.

Danny was quicker, though, and picked it up before she could take it. "Is that … mistletoe?"

"Stella got it for me," Lindsay mumbled. She glanced up, suddenly acutely aware of how close his face really was to hers.

"Why?" he said, smirking.

"I don't know," she shrugged, her eyes locking with his.

"She have someone in mind for you?" Danny half-joked.

"She might have," Lindsay replied softly. She found, suddenly, that she could not tear her gaze away. She knew what he was going to do before he did it, the tension nearly cutting her into two parts. She had the choice. It was hers. He was waiting, watching her with his piercing blue eyes, because he knew it was ultimately up to her.

And then everything seemed to fit. The reflection of the lights of the tiny Christmas tree Danny had fixed for her glowed gently on his face, the kitchen was warm and soothing, and there was the sharp scent of the spicy chai tea bags radiating from the tea basket in Danny's hand. Celia's breathing sounded from the baby monitor on the counter, and Lindsay felt warm and happy. This was her home, and this was her family. Her eyes softened, and she scooted closer to Danny.

Danny bent in close to her, his mouth no more than a centimeter away from hers. She closed her eyes, feeling his breath on her lips. He gently rubbed his lips on hers, a soft touch on her mouth, and then rested there. The kiss was different than all their others before. There was no more pretending, no more happy illusion of a life they did not have. It was a kiss that assumed nothing, that spoke only to an uncertain future.

Lindsay breathed in softly, which was all Danny needed to move forwards. He bent forwards, Lindsay leaned back, and Danny gently helped her lie down on the floor of the kitchen, his hand behind her head. He opened her mouth with his, and, for the first time in too long, let his tongue slip into her mouth. They fell into their old rhythm quickly, tongues easing into the soft back and forth dance.

Lindsay sighed into Danny's mouth. Danny carefully broke the kiss, pushing himself up onto his forearms above her. He watched her eyes slowly flutter open, and match his with a soft, loving gaze.

"Why'd you stop?" she asked hoarsely, her voice gone since the moment his lips had touched hers.

"I wanted to look at you," he murmured, running his hand down the side of her face tenderly.

"Haven't you looked enough?" she asked, somewhat irritated that he had stopped kissing her.

Danny grinned and shook his head before he bent in again, softly kissing her mouth. But Lindsay had had enough of that. She wrapped her arms around him and rolled him over, forcing him onto his back. She straddled him, pulling her knees up to lie on either side of his waist, and bent down, kissing him passionately.

Danny's eyelids fluttered momentarily, before he sat himself up and tugged Lindsay tight to his body. She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding herself into his lap as they kissed.

"Hmm," Lindsay sighed against his mouth.

Danny drew back, his eyes half-lidded, a wide smile stretching across his face. "What?" he asked.

Lindsay shrugged. "I don't know," she said, her voice breathy after the recent, passionate kiss, "I just … didn't think I'd be making out on my kitchen floor on Christmas Eve." She meant, of course, that the present was more than she ever could have imagined, and regretted saying anything as she suddenly missed his lips against hers.

Danny frowned. "You're right," he sighed. He started to move Lindsay off of his lap, sliding her legs off of his waist, "This is bad. We shouldn't be doing this."

Lindsay froze. Her hand involuntarily tightened on Danny's shoulder, and a look of a mixture of fear and sadness set across her face. "Oh," she said softly. Her voice was so defeated that Danny mistook it for a pained whimper. He looked up at her.

Danny raised his hand and cupped her cheek. He smoothed her skin with his thumb, committing the feel of her to memory again. "Do you want this?" he asked.

She nodded and leaned in to kiss him again. He pecked her lips and drew back and said, "I mean this isn't right for you. I should ask you out, not jump you on the floor of your kitchen –"

Lindsay giggled. "You mean a date? You want to take me on a date?"

Danny grinned widely, "Yeah, I do. Before the other stuff."

"What other stuff?" she asked teasingly, and kissed him softly. He smirked and kissed her hard, deepening the kiss and pressing her body to his. He wrapped his arms around her lower waist and pulled her in towards him.

He slid his hand gently up her soft white blouse, but the second it hit the underwire of her bra, the phone rang.

"No," Lindsay moaned against his mouth.

Celia immediately started to cry through the baby monitor, her shrieking sobs resonating with the harsh ring of Lindsay's landline. "Damn," Danny groaned. He helped Lindsay off of his waist, then stood. "I'll get Celia, you get the phone, OK?"

"Sure," Lindsay smiled. She watched him walk away as he adjusted his shirt and re-buttoned one of the buttons, which had mysteriously come undone.

Lindsay picked up the phone and pressed talk. "Hello?" she asked quietly.

"_Lindsay, this is your mother."_

"Oh," Lindsay said, "Hi."

"_Since you decided not to come and see us this year, I saw it fit to call you."_

"Thank you," Lindsay said without emotion.

"_What are you doing right now? What did you do for Christmas Eve?"_

"Um …" Lindsay said, glancing over at the baby monitor, which was issuing the soft sound of Danny's voice soothing Celia into sleep again. "Celia and I went to Rockefeller Center and saw the tree," she said. It wasn't entirely a lie.

"_And how is my granddaughter?"_

"She's … well, she's fine," Lindsay said, looking up as Danny came out holding Celia against his chest. He headed to the fridge and pulled out a bottle and a pan. He filled it with water and put it on the stove. He grinned at Lindsay, as though they shared a secret, and continued warming up the milk.

_She hungry_? Lindsay mouthed.

Danny nodded.

"_And what are you doing for Christmas, since you are not going to be home?"_

Lindsay winced. "I'll probably hang around with Danny or something," she said absentmindedly. She knew she was in for it as soon as she said it. Danny looked up from the warming milk bottle, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Her mother cleared her throat loudly on the phone. _"Lindsay." She said firmly, "That is not a good idea. That man is not good for you."_

"Mom, please don't –"

"_He's bad for you, Lindsay, why can't you see that?! He doesn't care about you or the baby; he's a self-serving boy who doesn't want a family, and you're only going to get hurt by him –"_

"Mom, I asked you not to say things like that," she sighed. She looked over at Danny, who was calmly pouring the hot water into a jar to put the bottle in. He jiggled the softly crying Celia on his hip with one hand while he dropped the bottle into the hot water. "I'll talk to you later, mom, it's late," she said.

A grumbling sigh came from the phone. _"Fine. Goodnight."_

"I love you," Lindsay said, but heard a click before she said it. She put the phone down on the countertop, her lips pursed.

Danny looked over at Lindsay. "What happened?" he asked, "What'd she say?"

"Nothing important," Lindsay smiled. She reached out for Celia. Danny handed the baby over, carefully putting her in Lindsay's arms. Danny tested the milk on his wrist to see if it was too hot, deemed it appropriate, and carefully pressed it to Celia's lips. Her tiny hands came up to weakly hold the bottle, and Danny smiled.

"Do you want to … put her in bed again?" Lindsay asked, the edge of her mouth tugging up in a suggestive grin.

Danny looked up from Celia. It took a moment before he realized what she was implying, but then a slow smirk spread across his face. "Yeah," he said. He carefully took the bottle and placed it on the counter, leaning forwards and brushing his lips against Lindsay's forehead.

He turned around and walked into Celia's room. He carefully put her onto the bed and patted her little round stomach. "Please, please go to sleep," he whispered, "Daddy really, really needs this."

* * *

"Slow," Lindsay whispered against his mouth nearly an hour later, hugging his neck.

"That's a pretty tall order," he whispered back, lifting her up with a soft grunt. He softly pressed her against the wall, sitting her on the edge of the short dresser, holding her thighs with his hands. His fingers softly pressed into her soft skin, into those thighs he had dreamed so long about for so long. She whimpered lightly as he licked the spot behind her ear, her hands tightening reflexively on his shoulders. He could feel her breasts pushing into his chest, and just thinking, even for a moment, that she was naked and he was holding her body against a wall turned him on even more.

He slid his hand up her thigh, running his hand back and forth, higher and higher, until he reached the corner where her hip met her leg, and slid his hand around to touch her intimately.

"No," she whispered, pushing back on his shoulders and shoving her upper body back flush against the wall, "No, I can't."

His hands stilled, and his body froze. "What?" he asked, his voice raspy.

She blushed furiously. "I can't … I'm not … I haven't …"

He bent in and softly kissed the thought away from her mouth, slipping his tongue in and caressing hers. He broke away, slightly breathless, and smiled at her encouragingly. "I know you're scared, but it's just me, Lindsay," he whispered, "It's just me, and I'm not gonna hurt you."

She looked at him nervously, and carefully stopped pushing on his shoulders, easing herself back onto his body, resting it against his hard chest.

"It's been a long time for me," she whispered fearfully, hugging his neck.

"I know, baby," he said, and softly sucked on the skin of her shoulder. "I'll leave my boxers on, we won't do anything below the belt, if you don't want."

She snorted against his neck. "I'm a little bit past that," she said, and he glanced down at her naked body.

"You want to put your clothes back on? Make you more comfortable?" he asked worriedly, his hands suddenly strangers on her skin. He gently slid his hands around to her waist – a gentle, platonic gesture.

She looked at him nervously. "No," she said, and leaned up to kiss him.

With that, his passion returned, and he pressed her to the wall again, his hands gliding up and down her body, trying to get a grasp on her skin. His hand slid down to the spot between her legs, and gently rubbed her clit with his thumb. She took in a deep breath and broke the kiss, leaning back against the wall. She watched him with glazed eyes.

He loved how her eyes widened each time he stroked particularly hard. He saw a bit of tension rise in her, so he leaned in and kissed her temple. "It's just me," he whispered. "You're so beautiful, Montana. You're gorgeous."

She gasped and clutched at his neck, her words gone. She scrabbled for his shoulders, her eyes wide. "Oh," she murmured, and rested her head on his shoulder as her orgasm shuddered through her body.

Danny smiled as he heard her quick breathing slowly fade back to normal. She straightened once she could breathe and softly pushed him backwards so she could slide off of the dresser. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him again, shuffling her feet forwards, nudging him towards the bed.

He wrapped his arms leisurely around her waist, until the backs of his legs hit the bed. He sat down, bringing her with him. They paused at the edge of the bed, Lindsay sitting naked in Danny's lap, he in his boxers and watching her.

"Just do whatever you're comfortable with," he said, bringing his hand up to run through her hair.

She bent down and kissed him softly. He drew her further into his chest, and carefully laid himself down on the bed, dropping one hand to his side to keep himself stable. When he was flat on his back, Lindsay stretched herself on top of him, aligning her hips with his. She felt the bulge in his boxers, and smiled as she kissed his mouth. She slid down his body, leaving soft, loving kisses as she went, then slipped the tips of her fingers into the elastic waistband of his boxers.

"Wait," he said hoarsely, and grabbed her wrists, "You have to be sure. Don't just do this to do this. Do this because you want it."

"Danny …" she whispered questioningly.

"You have to want it. Everything. Everything that comes with it. I don't want to lose you again."

"I want it," she whispered, and tugged his boxers down his legs, then nestled herself in between his legs. She matched his gaze as she slowly took him in her mouth, her hands holding tightly to his hips.

With a strangled groan, he stopped her and bent forwards. He pulled her up by her arms and held her over his body before kissing her softly. "I don't want to do it that way," he sighed, and carefully rolled her over on the bed.

She watched him with her big, brown eyes, her heart beating quickly in her chest. She whimpered as he lazily drifted his hand down her side. "Are you … protected?" he asked, nuzzling the side of her neck.

She shook her head, wishing she'd asked her doctor if she could go back on the pill. She hadn't thought about it – probably because the prospect of sex had seemed so impossible to her at the time. "Do you have any condoms?" he asked.

She glanced over to her bedside table and nodded. He took the hint and reached over and tugged open the drawer, pulling out a package. He tore it open and slid it onto himself before looking at her, waiting for her signal.

She looked up at him nervously, biting her lip.

"Don't," he whispered, kissing the tension from the center of her forehead, "Don't worry. It's just me, Lindsay, and you can stop me whenever you want." He stilled above her, waiting for when the worry was gone from her face. He'd wait forever if he had to.

She took a deep breath and looked up at him, her eyes soft. "What if I'm bad at it?" she whispered.

"You won't be," he assured her, "You aren't. Nothing has changed, Montana, not about this." He gently kissed her, his tongue reaching into her mouth and probing gently. He broke away and pressed his nose to hers. "The other stuff in our lives mighta changed a little, but this – we'll always be good at this. We always have. We love each other too much not to be."

At that, her face softened. The worry faded, and she wrapped one arm around his neck and slid one hand down to guide him into her.

The first thrust was gentler than she'd remembered – a soft push into her that stretched but soothed her at the same time. He paused there, resting his head on the pillow beside her head. "Are you OK?" he asked, a little breathlessly.

She nodded. She tried to move but he was still. He was watching her, his breathing ragged. He bent and pressed his lips softly to hers. Lindsay moaned softly, the tension killing her. Danny held her to the bed with his body before ghosting his fingers along her skin. He ran his right hand up and down the side of her body, stopping to circle a nipple, then along the line where her back met the sheets. He drifted his fingers over her hip, zig-zagging back and forth.

Lindsay's eyes were wide, matching his. He wouldn't tear his eyes away for the world. Their faces were an inch apart, and Lindsay could feel his breath on her mouth. She thought she would die of suspense as his fingers slowly meandered to where she and Danny were joined. Danny showed no signs of lingering. He drew a tiny, gentle circle on her clit, causing Lindsay to suck in a deep breath, but his fingers trailed around again, up her body, to her cheek. He traced her ear with his fingertip. Her mouth. Her eyes. The tip of her chin.

"Please," she whimpered.

He smiled and kissed her softly. He slid his fingers down her body again, the tips trailing against her flesh, following the same route. This time, though, he lingered a little longer at her clit, drawing a few more circles until she let out another whimper, and he trailed his fingers up again.

He followed the same path three, impossibly teasing and torturous times, each time lingering a little more where she wanted and needed him. Near the end, Lindsay was on edge, barely able to breathe. It was knowing where his hand would go that killed her, made her skin tingle and thrum with energy.

Finally, the fourth time, when Danny got to her clitoris, he pressed his thumb hard into the little bundle of nerves, and started to pump in and out of her. Lindsay came almost immediately, out of surprise and satisfaction. Danny didn't slow his rough pace through her orgasm, drawing it out with the rhythm of his thrusts.

"God, I missed you," Danny whispered, rubbing his lips on hers.

"I missed you, too," she whispered back, as a second orgasm began building. Tears started in her eyes. Memories began rushing at her, drowning her, as she thought of the times she'd been sitting alone with only her round belly to comfort her, sitting on her bed and wondering when this would happen, or the times when she had sat beside him on the couch, Celia in her baby carrier between them, wishing she could touch him. There was a world of this, this connection with him, that had been lost, and she hoped that, somehow, they could bring it back.

"Am I hurting you?" Danny asked, slowing in his thrusts. His words were only pants now, harsh breaths of words that had to be said.

She shook her head and kissed him passionately, willing him to continue with a thrust of her own hips.

She stopped mourning the loss of the past year, and succumbed instead to the moment, and his fingers, which had found their way to her clit again and had gently begun tracing patterns and apologies as he smoothly thrust into her warm body.

She came for the third time with a soft moan, and he followed moments later, rolling her quickly so that she came to rest on his chest, and not crushed underneath him. They stared up at the ceiling, their minds soothed and blank.

He sat up and pulled off the condom, knotting it and heading into the bathroom to throw it away, his walk a little stumbling and tired.

He crawled into bed again, and wrapped his arms tightly around Lindsay's nude form, as he had longed to do for so, so long. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in. As he breathed out, the words slipped softly from his lips, "I love you."

She smiled and brought him closer, holding his hands tightly to her chest and wiggling into the warm skin of his torso. "I know," she whispered, and kissed his fingers.

"Do you love me?" he asked, nuzzling his nose into the back of her neck, and knowing the answer.

"Yes," she breathed happily, finally, and closed her tired eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Just wanted to thank you all for the support you've given me so far. :)**

* * *

There was no greater Christmas present, Danny thought, as he watched Lindsay's eyes flutter open, than awaking to the feel of Lindsay's soft body pressed against his own. He continued twirling a lock of her hair in his hand, threading it through his fingers. He smiled up at the ceiling, simply enjoying the areas of his body that she was pressed to. Her leg was thrown over his, pressed neatly to the entire inside length of his limb. Her stomach was tucked into his side, and her head was resting neatly on his shoulder, one arm around his chest. She was a cuddly sleeper. She always had been. It made him wonder how she slept when she was alone – did she hug the pillows? Curl up into a ball in the blankets?

As she slowly woke, her fingers moved lightly across his chest, tapping involuntarily as her muscles shook off sleep. He smiled and glanced down at her. He could see the skin at the top of her shoulder goose-bumping, so he reached down to around his waist, where the blankets had collected, and pulled them up over her shoulders. She muttered something unintelligible and moved against him, giving a light shiver at the change in temperature.

Her eyes opened fully, and she looked up at him. Confusion marred her features, quickly replaced by a soft, gentle satisfaction. She closed her eyes again and wiggled impossibly closer to him. He squeezed her into a hug and nuzzled into her hair. "Merry Christmas," he whispered.

She smiled and trailed a finger up and down his chest lazily. "Merry Christmas," she sighed happily.

A soft whimper came from the baby monitor sitting on Lindsay's bedside table. Lindsay looked over at it, and groaned as she hugged Danny's torso. "No," she moaned as the whimper turned into a cry.

Danny chuckled softly and bent in closer to her. "I got it," he said softly, a hint of laughter in his tone. He paused, reveling in the warmth of her body, before sliding out of bed and snatching up his boxers from the floor. He tugged them on, then his tank top, and headed into Celia's room.

He returned a few minutes later, holding Celia in his arms, and sat down on the bed. "Hey, there's no milk in the fridge," he said, running a hand through Lindsay's hair. "Should I give her some of that formula crap, or –"

"No, I'll breastfeed," Lindsay said, and wiggled her way up into a sitting position, the blanket slipping down to her waist. She held out her arms for Celia and carefully held the baby to her chest. Celia latched on quickly.

Danny watched for a minute, smiling softly, until Lindsay shivered and he tugged the blanket up and crawled around behind her, pressing his warm body to her back. He hugged her from behind, his arms on her naked stomach, and supported Celia on Lindsay's chest.

She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder, watching Celia nurse. She trailed a finger down Celia's cheek and watched her daughter's eyes move about. "Danny?" she asked softly.

"Huh?" he asked, squeezing Lindsay to his body.

"What are we going to do?" Her voice was curious, yet a bit timid.

"I don't know. I was thinkin' we could take her to my ma's later tonight, 'cause she wants to see her, but this morning I thought we'd just stay –"

"Not now. I mean … what did last night mean?" she asked, turning her head up to look at him.

He pursed his lips, watching her, then spoke slowly. "It means … that we're going to move forwards. That we're going to make new rules, and we're going to try something new."

"But what?" Lindsay asked worriedly, "What does that mean?"

He grinned at her. "I don't know yet," he said, "But that's why we're doing this. We're going to figure it out." He tilted his head towards hers and softly kissed her, hugging her tightly to his chest. "Just stay with me, OK? Don't go anywhere. We're gonna figure this out."

She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder again. "I think she's done," she said softly, lifting Celia up higher. Celia snuffled.

"I'll burp her and put her back in the crib," Danny offered, taking Celia, "I gotta get back to my place and get ready for work anyways." He kissed Lindsay one more time and carried Celia out of the room.

Lindsay watched him go, admiring his defined back muscles through the tank top, contrasted with Celia's round, bright face peeking over his shoulder. She slowly got out of bed and pulled on some underwear and her heavy, unflattering nursing bra. She hated the thing, but it was incredibly convenient. She particularly hated how hideous it looked. When she'd bought it, appearance had meant nothing to her. She'd gone on several wild, quick, hectic trips to maternity stores during her pregnancy, in which she'd grabbed whatever was cheapest and most comfortable. What she remembered most was the sheer awkwardness of it all – shuffling out of a building with an ever-growing belly and too many bags, watching the carefree couples walk hand-in-hand around her.

Danny came back into the room and scooped up his shirt from the floor. He walked over to Lindsay with a wide grin on his face and pulled her close to him, kissing her softly. She felt the warm skin of his abs on her stomach, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"You have to go to work," she reminded him, grinning. He shook his head and kissed her again.

"I'll call in sick," he smiled.

"You can't," she reminded him in between kisses, "Half the team's out today."

Danny ignored her and bent down. He easily picked her up, hoisting her up around his waist and clutching at her thighs as he turned around to the bed and dropped her.

She landed with a short, surprised laugh and looked up at him. He admired her for a moment. She felt his gaze burning her body, and instinctively covered her stomach with her arms, suddenly shy.

"What?" he asked, crawling onto the bed on top of her. He pulled her arms away and kissed her lazily, enjoying how familiar it had become. He pulled back and looked her up and down again, amazed that she was with him and not someone who she deserved, someone perfect. He trailed a hand over her stomach, up to her chest.

She winced slightly and looked up at him worriedly.

"What?" he asked for the second time.

"Nothing," she murmured, and wrapped her arms around his biceps, pulling him closer to her. He broke the kiss.

"Is something wrong?" he asked worriedly, "Does your stomach hurt?"

She shook her head and feebly tried to get him to kiss her again. He shook his head with a smirk. "Nuh-uh. First you tell me if your stomach hurts you."

"It doesn't hurt."

"Then what's the matter, baby?" he asked, kissing her softly.

She momentarily lost herself in the kiss, in the sultry, teasing motions of his tongue on hers and his gentle lips. She gave a brief gasp when he pulled away and watched her again. "You embarrassed?" he asked, bringing his hand to rest on her flat stomach.

She shoved his hand off instinctively.

He put it back, raising one eyebrow at her.

She tried to shove it off again, but he held it there and smacked a kiss to her lips. He nudged her knees a little further apart and helped her move further up on the bed before wiggling his way in between her legs and sitting up on his heels, looking down at her.

She scrunched up her nose and tried to wiggle out of the grip he was holding her in. "I still have to lose some baby weight," she said sheepishly.

"No, you don't," he said, smirking, and kissed his way down to her stomach, which was perfectly smooth and flat. He lingered there, mouthing the flesh just above her underwear before slowly, teasingly pulling it down.

Lindsay tried to gather up the willpower to remind him that he was going to be late for work if he didn't hurry, and that he had no time for any fooling around, but she soon lost the ability to form any words as his tongue worked her effortlessly into an orgasm.

* * *

That night, Danny was immensely happy. He smiled, remembering the evening – a Christmas dinner with his mother, Lindsay, Celia, and his grandmother. Four women and Danny. Well, three women and one baby girl. But who was counting. Granted, there had been some unfortunate moments, one of which included his Nonna attempting to beat the television after realizing that her favorite soaps were not going to be playing. But the food had been fantastic, and Celia had crawled again. He also couldn't believe his luck at the impromptu make-out session he'd had with Lindsay later, against her refrigerator, his hand pressed on the cold plastic of the fridge, his body pressing close to her warm skin.

The ride he'd given her back to her place wasn't half bad either – his thigh was still burning from the feel of her hand, placed there for the duration of the ride.

He took off his shirt, jeans, and boxers before pulling on some sweatpants. He was about to collapse in his bed before he heard his buzzer. He groaned and considered leaving the phone to ring. Finally, he dragged himself off of the bed and picked up the phone.

"What?" he grunted.

"_Let us up!" _Lindsay giggled through the intercom.

Danny was immediately awake. "What the hell are you doing down there?" he asked, standing up off of the bed, his foot catching on his discarded jeans on the floor.

"_We missed you," _Lindsay said, and Celia offered up a loud _"A-goo!" _to back up Lindsay's statement.

Danny hit the button to open the door for her and snagged his keys from the counter before heading out of his apartment. He met her halfway down the stairs, seeing her with snow melting in her brown hair and Celia, in a heavy baby parka, set on her hip. Lindsay looked up the flight of stairs to see him frowning down at her in his bare chest and bare feet.

She laughed. "You can't put on a shirt?"

"You can't call ahead of time?" he snorted, quickly padding down the cold stairs to her.

She kissed him softly, and he momentarily forgot his anger for her soft lips and her gentle hand on the side of his cheek.

She broke the kiss and smiled at him cheerfully.

He frowned and took Celia from her arms. He slid the baby bag off of her shoulder and slung it over his own before leading her up the stairs to his apartment. "Please tell me you guys took a cab."

She gulped. "OK, we took a cab," she lied.

"You're not just saying that?"

She sighed, "OK, I'm just saying that."

"Lindsay!" he groaned.

"It was one train! One single train! And there was practically nobody on it, and I wanted to see you again," she finished softly, rubbing his arm. He draped his arm around her and nudged open the door to his apartment with his foot.

"You want to see me, I'll come pick you up. Or I'll just come over there. None of this midnight subway ride thing. You coulda gotten hurt."

"Danny, it's Christmas night, who would –"

Danny held up his hand. "For Chrissake, Lindsay, if you are honestly going to say, after all your years as a CSI, that someone wouldn't attack you because it's Christmas, then you can just –"

Lindsay pouted at him and took Celia from his arms. "Did you paint her room yet?" she asked, hoisting Celia up on her hip.

Danny shook his head. "I'll start this weekend," he said, bringing the baby bag into the nursery. He dumped it off and walked back into the kitchen, where Lindsay was busying herself making tea. "So, any particular reason you're here?"

She shook her head with a sly grin, putting the kettle on the stovetop and turning it on. "Do you want me to leave?" she asked.

He shook his head with a smirk and walked behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and under Celia's butt to help hold up the baby.

Celia bounced in Lindsay's arms, reaching up to Danny and making an inquisitive, "Ah?" sound.

Danny kissed her nose, making her giggle loudly. He took her from Lindsay's arms and kissed her ear loudly. She laughed harder, and reached up for his dog tags, her favorite toy. Danny had noticed how much she loved it when he jiggled them around, letting them clink together loudly. She took them from his hands and started to tug on them, playing with the metal objects.

"It's Christmas," Lindsay said, smiling up at Danny, "And I know she wanted to see you."

"Me?" Danny asked, grinning.

"You're her daddy," Lindsay laughed, taking out the tea basket from Danny's cupboard. She pulled out some holiday Chai and ripped open the paper wrapper, setting the teabag in her cup.

"So what compelled you to leave in the middle of the night, when it's snowing outside and everything, to come and see me? Seriously, Linds."

"I came to drop her off, OK?" Lindsay sighed, "I'm exhausted, and she sleeps better when you're around. I'll go home if you want, but –"

"Home? Now?" Danny snorted, gesturing towards the window, visible through the bedroom door, where darkness blanketed the city. "Yeah, right. You're staying here for the night."

Lindsay frowned. "I can go back, if you don't –"

"I want you here," Danny assured her. "I'm gonna put the baby to bed, and then we can hang out, OK?" he suggested.

Lindsay smiled and nodded before turning back to the kettle.

Danny carefully carried Celia into the bedroom at the end of the hall. He reached down into the crib, carefully arranging the new bed sheets he'd bought for her – soft navy blue. He straightened them and got Celia out of the parka she was wearing before carefully laying her down on the blankets. He rubbed her belly and leaned in and kissed her chubby cheek. "Goodnight, gorgeous," he whispered, "I love you."

She grabbed his thumb as he moved away, and he stood above the crib, tethered by her tiny hand. He shook his hand back and forth playfully, testing her grip. She giggled as he made a mock-pained face at her, and watched as her father's eyes crinkle in delight.

"You like that?" Danny laughed, shaking his thumb, feeling her little fingers curl around it tightly. He watched her quietly, grinning each time she tugged harder on his thumb or laughed out loud.

"You gotta go to sleep," he chuckled, bringing his other hand down to stroke her soft brown hair. He brushed it out of her eyes and rested his hand on her head. "You're wearing your mommy out," he informed her, "She's going crazy tryin' to take care of you. Not that she cares," he grinned. "Not that I'd care, if it were me. You're too cute for anyone to care." He sighed and shook his thumb for her once again, causing her to burst out into a wild giggle. "Too perfect," he murmured, "You're perfect. You know that?"

Celia stopped laughing and watched him with wide eyes, her mouth in a round, red circle. She pulled Danny's hand to her mouth and put his thumb in her mouth.

Danny laughed as he watched her and felt her slobbery mouth on his thumb. "That's gross, Celia," he chuckled.

Celia giggled again and kicked her feet up high in the air, until they touched Danny's forearm. He tickled the bottoms of her pajamas and kissed her head again before taking his hand off of her head and gently taking his thumb out of her hand.

Celia looked almost stunned by how easily Danny took his hand away from her grip. "Ah-ga," she said crossly.

Danny grinned and gave a little wave. "Go to sleep, sweetheart, mommy and I will see you in the morning."

* * *

Danny moved from kissing Lindsay's neck to kissing her jaw. His eyes flicked up to hers, and found them closed. They were not the tired sort of closed, but rather the fighting-to-stay-open closed.

"Linds," he said quietly.

"Unh," she responded, her arm slipping from his shoulder, down to rest on his chest.

"How about we go to sleep?" he chuckled, finishing his removal of her sweater.

She nodded sheepishly and blushed lightly, her eyes opening a little more. "Sorry," she mumbled, wiping her eyes. She started to take off her sweater, and folded it neatly before looking around for someplace to put it.

Danny took the soft grey sweater out of her grasp and chucked it over to the dresser in the corner of his room. It landed messily, splaying over the top of the piece of furniture. "You fold _everything_," he laughed, helping her remove the dress shirt she'd been wearing since the dinner at Danny's mother's house.

"I like things to be neat," she muttered, feebly attempting to unbutton her pants.

Danny watched her try and fail to undo the button above her fly, but eventually moved her tired fingers from the button and undid it himself. He wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her step out of the jeans, leaving her in a half-buttoned blouse and light blue, lacy panties. Danny pondered the panties for a moment, regretting, only briefly, the fact that he wasn't going to be able to throw those panties over his shoulder as he …

He shook his head and grabbed a big t-shirt from his dresser, and handed it to her. "Maybe you should start napping with Celia," he suggested jokingly, helping her to take off the blouse and slip on the t-shirt.

Danny almost let out a groan when he saw her milky skin peek out from the top of the cream colored bra she wore. He shook it off yet again and helped her pull on the t-shirt.

"Don't joke about that," she slurred, letting him lead her into the bed. She collapsed on top of the covers, burying her head in the pillow. "I've been known to take a nap before she does," she said sleepily.

Danny chuckled and lifted Lindsay partway off the mattress so he could pull back the covers. He tucked her in before clambering over her and slipping under the covers on the other side of her. "You never call me," he remarked, watching her shiver as she adjusted to the sheets.

"What?" she breathed, throwing an arm back over the pillow to look at him properly.

"When you want help. Call me. If you're tired, I'll watch her, you know that. You shouldn't be this tired all the time," he said, and sat up on one elbow to drop a kiss onto her forehead.

She let out a tired laugh that sounded a lot like a hum. "I don't want to bother you."

"Bother," he said, and cuddled up behind her.

She felt warmed by a new, rejuvenating energy when she felt his arms slip over her waist and lock at her belly button. His head was in back of hers, and she could feel his breath on her shoulder and his waist at her butt. He pulled her closer, and she felt his entire chest against her back. He nudged her knees, bending them forwards so his fit neatly behind hers.

"Night," he said, oblivious to her sudden awareness of their familiarity and closeness.

"Danny?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Yeah?"

"Will you watch her tomorrow after work?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "You want me to take her here, so you can have your place to yourself?"

She nodded and wiggled a little bit, fitting herself further into his body. "Thanks," she smiled.

"Anytime," he responded, and closed his eyes.

* * *

"Do you have children, Detective Messer?" Raymond Friedman asked, his hands shaking slightly. He tapped his finger on the table, traces of blood still evident under the nail although Danny had scraped some away for testing only moments before.

"Yes, I do. A daughter," Danny said, fighting the smile that was begging to appear on his face as he thought of Celia's tiny little hands, slapping on the floor of the kitchen before she crawled for the first time.

"Then you should understand," Raymond said, turning his head to look to the wall of the interrogation room.

"You killed a man," Flack spoke up, straightening off of the wall of the room, "And in this state, that's illegal."

Danny wished it wasn't. He knew, although he would never say anything in the stifling, still air of the interrogation room, that if someone hurt Celia the way someone had hurt Ray Friedman's fifteen year old daughter, he would kill them. Pure and simple.

"You went too far, Ray," Flack said, bending down over the table next to Raymond's thin frame. He slapped the glossy picture of a man lying spread-eagled on the snow, naked, blood melting the ice beneath his body. "You shot him twice, and left him to die in the snow – naked."

Danny felt sick. He knew that they needed a confession – the circumstantial evidence would not hold up in court alone. But he didn't want a confession. He wanted to see Celia. He had to get the image of Ray's daughter out of his mind. He'd sat in on her interview, after the rape had occurred nearly two months ago, as Stella had gently pried the story of her assault from the girl's mind. And then, to find her, two days ago, with an empty pill bottle in her hand and a note fluttering on the floor beside her cold body. She'd had eyes the same blue as Celia.

Suffice it to say, Danny had not been sympathetic to find the man who'd been acquitted of the rape lying naked and dead in the snow that morning.

He blinked back to the present, and watched Flack ask Ray again and again if he was _sure _he didn't leave his house, and how did a thread from his shirt get on the victim's clothes, and so on, and so on.

"Would you do … _this_ … for your daughter?" Mr. Friedman asked, shoving the glossy photo across the table to where Danny sat. Danny glanced down at the picture, and looked back up at Raymond.

"Yes," he said quietly, no hesitation in his voice.

"Then you understand. Why I did it."

"Are you admitting to the murder of Chester Quinn?" Flack asked, laying one hand flat on the table.

"I am," Raymond said, his eyes never leaving Danny's face.

"Raymond Friedman, you are under arrest for the murder of Chester Quinn. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law."

As Flack calmly read Raymond his Miranda Rights, Danny and Ray watched each other. As Ray was led out of the room, Danny gave the man a subtle, understanding nod.

* * *

"The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout," Danny chanted, moving Celia's hands to match the song. He had her on his lap as he sat on his couch, an empty bottle and a burping rag thrown onto the table in front of him.

"Down came the rain and washed the spider out," Danny continued, letting go of her hands to show her the fluttering motions of rain. Celia watched his hands move with her big blue eyes.

"Ag!" she called out, and reached for his hand with an uncoordinated flail. Danny chuckled and brought his hand to hers, letting her curl her fingers around the tip of his index finger.

"I missed you today," Danny told her, resting his free hand on the top of her head of soft brown hair.

"Uh?" Celia said inquisitively, looking up sharply.

Danny laughed and pressed his thumb to her nose.

She giggled and kicked her feet. The motion sent her toppling backwards, and Danny moved his hand to her back to make sure she didn't fall all the way back onto the couch cushion.

"Careful," he said, and moved his hands to the sides of her stomach. He lifted her up into his arms and hugged her before kissing the top of her head. "You're getting so big," he said, patting her back. She grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and tried to stuff it in her mouth before spotting his dog tags. She squealed excitedly and reached for the glittering chain.

Danny glanced over at the clock and his eyes widened. "We gotta get you back to mommy, Celia," he said, standing up from the couch. He brought her to her bedroom, and found her tiny, thick green sleeper and carefully pulled it onto her. He made sure her arms and legs were in the right holes and lifted her up.

He was nearly an hour late in getting back to Lindsay's place already, and he hadn't left his own apartment yet. A sharp panic hit him as he wondered why she hadn't called.

He hurriedly scooped up his leather jacket and pulled it on before scooping up the baby bag and Celia's plastic baby carrier. He strapped her in and headed out of his apartment, locking it tightly behind him.

* * *

"Linds?" Danny bellowed, stepping into the apartment. He shut the door behind him, holding Celia's baby carrier with one hand, and holding it slightly behind him, unaware of what was going on in the apartment. "Linds, where are you?"

He walked through the apartment, mentally running through everything to see if it was out of order. He glanced at the light seeping from under the door of the bathroom, and slowly, warily pushed the door open. He glanced inside, and found Lindsay lying in her bathtub, head thrown back, a small smile on her face. Her eyes were closed.

He grinned and relaxed immensely. He left the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and headed to Celia's room. He carefully lifted the sleeping infant out of the baby carrier and took off her green jacket before placing her in the crib. He rested his hand on her stomach and leaned in to whisper his customary, "Good night, I love you."

Next he headed to the bathroom and opened the door gently. He sat down on the edge of the tub and stuck his finger in the water. It was lukewarm, almost chilly to the touch. Lindsay had obviously been in the water for a while. He reached out to her, his fingers still damp, and brushed her drying hair from her face.

She moaned softly, and her eyes softly opened. "Hi," she said quietly, focusing on Danny's face.

"Hey," he said. "You're gonna catch hypothermia if you sit in here all night."

She sighed. "Did you bring Celia home?"

Danny shook his head. "I decided to leave her at my place for the night," he said, shrugging.

Lindsay slapped his arm and started to get out of the tub, reaching over for a towel.

He rubbed his arm and chuckled. "Geez, just kiddin' Montana."

She stood up and wrapped the towel around herself before pulling the plug out of the tub with her toe.

"Feel better? Relaxed?" he asked, rubbing her thigh through the towel.

She nodded and smiled dreamily as she stepped out of the tub. "Much," she sighed.

He held out his hand to help her out of the tub. She took it in her damp hand and winced when she stepped onto the cold floor. He stood up off of the tub and followed her into her bedroom. She tugged out a pair of underwear from her dresser, but he reached out and stopped her.

"What?" she asked, grinning as she turned around to look at him.

He wrapped a hand around her midsection. "Do you really want to get dressed yet?" He smirked, kissing the side of her neck.

"I guess not," she giggled, and turned around in his arms.


	12. Chapter 12

**This has a mild M rating.**

* * *

Danny smiled brightly as he saw Lindsay walking down the hallway of the crime lab, Celia in a sling against her chest. She was holding a file in one hand, and had her other hand pressed to Celia's bottom to help support the baby.

Danny peeked his head out of the Trace Lab and called out her name.

Lindsay stopped and looked up, waving at him tiredly.

"Why's she here? I thought she was at daycare," Danny said, stepping out of the room and into the hallway. "Is she sick?"

Lindsay shook her head. "There was a chicken pox outbreak, and they called all the parents. I had to come pick her up. Mac's letting me do paperwork so I can watch her while I'm here. I've missed enough work."

Danny grinned and peeked into the sling, where Celia was sucking on her fist, her head resting on Lindsay's chest. He tickled the side of Celia's face and looked back up at Lindsay. "Flack and I are headin' out to a scene in a sec, but when I get back, I'll come in and sit with you guys, if you want."

"Sure," Lindsay chirped, "I've got a doctor's appointment later today, and I was wondering if you could –"

"Yeah," he said quickly, brushing Celia's light brown hair out of her eyes with his fingertips.

"Great. I'm going to head to the office," Lindsay said, smiling at him.

"Kay," Danny said, and kissed her forehead. "See you around."

Lindsay walked past Danny and gave a little wave to Hawkes. Danny watched as Sheldon pulled his goddaughter out of her sling and held her to his hip, bouncing her up and down a little. Celia let out a peal of laughter and clutched Hawkes' shirt. Lindsay watched with a small smile on her face. Sheldon handed Lindsay back the baby and patted her shoulder before walking on.

He gave a grim nod to Danny.

"What?" Danny snorted.

"Nothing. Did you get the results on the trace I found on that shirt this morning?"

"Uh, yeah. Cornstarch. What's with the tone, Doc? Something wrong?" Danny asked, concerned.

Sheldon bit back a comment, and continued walking. If he didn't have anything nice to say, he wasn't going to say it. Because despite Stella and Don's assurances that Danny had changed, and that he truly was going to take care of his daughter and cherish her for the rest of his life, Sheldon was not convinced. Where had Danny been when Lindsay was crying in the break room? Where had he been when she was vomiting in the bathroom at work? During the doctors visits? Every time Sheldon saw Danny, now, all he could think of was Lindsay's face when she'd shown him the ultrasound from her 34 week doctor's appointment, biting her lip as Sheldon pointed out the toes, the hands, the profile. She'd sat next to him on the bench outside the crime lab, her hands on her belly, watching his finger move from picture to picture, piecing together her baby. There should have been someone else to share it with, someone else to see. And it was that look of loneliness on Lindsay's face that day, that look of utter and complete fear at an uncertain future that made him hate Danny's guts.

* * *

"_He's going to leave," _Betty Monroe said simply into the phone.

Lindsay rolled her eyes and continued to change Celia's diaper. The phone was tucked between her shoulder and her ear as she pressed her head to the earpiece. "He's Celia's father, and he loves her. He's not going to leave her," she said simply, taping the front of the diaper to the back flap. Celia blinked up at her and kicked her feet up. She raised her tiny hand to the light and opened and closed her hand a few times.

"_What about you, then?" _Betty sighed, _"I'm only looking out for you. He's only with you because of the baby. And eventually he'll get tired of that – all the responsibility weighing him down."_

"That's not true," Lindsay said, furrowing her brow.

"_Oh, really? Is there anything else tying him to you besides that child?"_

Lindsay smiled, remembering Danny's hands on her stomach, his searing kisses on her lips and the quiet, murmured words that had been hot on her ear.

"_Lindsay, please tell me you're not sleeping with him."_

Lindsay was silent as she pulled Celia's feet through the onesie and zipped her daughter up.

Betty groaned through the phone. _"Are you even thinking straight? My GOD, Lindsay, don't you see what's happening?"_

"No, Mom, what's happening?" Lindsay said distractedly, chucking the dirty diaper in the trashcan. She grabbed a few wipes from the packet next to her and cleaned her hands thoroughly.

"_Lindsay, you're blind to it. You can't see it. He's using you."_

"No," Lindsay replied simply. She picked up another wipe and cleaned off Celia's hands, just in case. She stuck her tongue out at her daughter playfully. Celia burst into a peal of giggles.

"_Of course you jumped into bed with him. You wanted him so badly to be a part of your child's life, to take away from your stress, and he saw that. And he took advantage of you, Lindsay, he just wants someone to fuck –"_

"Mother!" Lindsay cried, having never heard her mother use crude language before. The tone shocked her, those bitter, fast-paced words spewing out of her mother's mouth.

"_He just wants sex from you, Lindsay! And he knows he can get it!"_

"Mom, that's not true, he's –"

"_And when he's done with you, all he has to say those magic words – 'it's better for the baby' – and he's done with you. He's washed his hands of you."_

"Mom, stop!" Lindsay cried. Celia, shocked by the hurt tone in her mother's voice, whimpered.

"_He'll leave you, Lindsay. You watch. You're a free roll in the hay with no strings attached. And he'll move on to someone younger, someone thinner, someone more beautiful and perfect –"_

"I'm hanging up," Lindsay said venomously, "I can't listen to you when you're like this."

She pressed 'end call' and tossed her phone over her shoulder, onto the soft pink carpet of Celia's room.

Celia looked up at her, eyes wide, face scrunched up as though she was about to cry. "Don't cry, honey," Lindsay sighed, and rubbed Celia's tummy. "Grandma's just being mean."

She picked up the baby and headed into the kitchen, patting Celia's back to calm her down. She glanced in the fridge, and found that she had no appetite for any of the food.

She decided to go out for a run, hoping it would clear her thoughts.

* * *

The full brunt of Betty's words didn't hit Lindsay until later that night, as Lindsay was straddling a naked Danny, rocking back and forth as she dug her nails into his chest. The words were the farthest thing in her mind, but they were still _in_ her mind, and when Danny hissed a pleasured, "_Fuck, _Lindsay," she froze where she sat.

She blinked once, then twice, then burst into a wild sob.

Danny's eyes snapped open, and he struggled up to his elbows, watching in confusion and a little bit of awe as the girl who had been happily riding him was now crying her eyes out.

"Uh, Linds?" he asked breathlessly, "Are you hurt, or somethin'?"

"Is that all I _am _to you?" Lindsay sobbed, covering her eyes with her hands and bending over slightly, her tears mingling with sweat on her face.

"What?" Danny asked, genuinely mystified, and losing his hard on quickly.

"Am I just someone you know you can _fuck?_" Lindsay sobbed, "Some kind of booty call? A secret mistress, or something?"

Danny struggled up to a sitting position and gently guided himself out of her before hugging her tightly. "No," he said calmly, "That's not true."

"Then what are we _doing?" _Lindsay cried, burying her face in his damp neck.

"Lindsay, what are you talking about?" Danny asked gently, rubbing her back with his thumb.

She only cried harder. Danny moved her for a moment so he could roll the condom off of himself and chuck it into the trashcan by Lindsay's bed. "Linds, you gotta explain this a little more," he told her, kissing the top of her head.

"You're using me," she whimpered.

"God, no, Linds, I'm not –"

"Well it's what it feels like, OK?" she sobbed, "No one knows we're dating, like it's some kind of secret, and we're always having sex, we're never on dates or –"

"Do you want me to take you out?" Danny asked, "'Cause I thought you didn't want that yet. And it's not a secret we're dating – tell anyone you want. Where's this coming from?"

"I just feel used, OK?" she whimpered, wiping her tears from her eyes.

"I'm not using you," Danny said softly, "I love you. And you're the mother of my child. I could never … _wrong_ you like that. We're doing this because we love each other and we want to show it. You're not some booty call, Lindsay, you're my girlfriend, and the mother of my daughter."

She sniffed. "Girlfriend?" she asked, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"Yes," Danny chuckled, "Why, what did you think?" He kissed her softly and brushed her hair behind her ears with his fingers.

"I just…" Lindsay stammered.

"Do you want to be more than just a girlfriend?" he asked, pressing his forehead to hers, "'Cause I plan on asking you to marry me – soon - and I don't mind asking you now."

Her eyes widened. "You want to … to …"

He laughed and hugged her tightly before pulling the covers up over her shoulders. "Of course I want to marry you. It's just about when you feel ready."

She took a deep breath and lifted her head to look at him, resting her forehead on his. "Not yet," she said, draping her arms around his neck.

"I thought so," he smiled, "but eventually." He slowly turned her around and laid her down on the mattress before lying on top of her and gently kissing her again. "Now, look," he said in between kisses, "If you think we should date, then we'll date. Maybe we shoulda done that first, before we had sex."

She grinned and wiggled around on the mattress, trying to get comfortable on the wrinkled sheets. Finally, she found the warm spot where Danny had been laying before she's started crying, and relaxed on the sheets, looking up at Danny. "I'm sorry," she said sheepishly, running her hand through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead.

"For what?" he asked, leisurely dropping a kiss to her jaw, and resting his forearms on either side of her face as he held himself above her.

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug as he sucked lightly on her neck. "Stopping what we were doing," she said, her breath hitching briefly as he nipped the edge of her jaw.

"If something's bugging you, you should tell me about it," he muttered, moving his lips to her ear where he sucked gently on the lobe, his teeth scraping at her skin. "'Course, there are better times," he chuckled. His breath was hot and moist on her ear. She shivered and wrapped her arms around his waist. She twined her fingers together at the small of his back and exhaled breathily.

"Did you bring another condom?" she asked as she tightened her grip on his lower body.

He shook his head and stopped sucking on her ear. "I only brought two," he murmured. "And we've used those up. You have any here?"

She shook her head and glanced over at the bedside table, where the empty box was lying on its side.

"So I guess I'll have to do something else with you, then," he chuckled, before kissing his way down her body.

* * *

Lindsay lay in Danny's arms nearly an hour later, physically exhausted but unable to sleep. Danny was holding her tightly, and she didn't want to move for fear of waking him. His hands were crossed on her stomach, just below her breasts. She outlined his hand with one finger, trailing her index finger around the skin of his thumb to his pinkie.

He sighed in sleep and his right hand twitched and squeezed her involuntarily.

Lindsay smiled and relaxed a little in his arms. She wondered, briefly, where she would be if Danny had done what he'd felt obligated to do, when she'd first told him of the pregnancy, and had married her. She'd be Lindsay Messer, for one. And she'd probably be a lot less in debt from the hospital bills and the baby expenses. And the feel of Danny's arms on her naked stomach would be more familiar, and she wouldn't have the painful fear that it would be the last time he held her.

She wished that his arms would feel permanent. She couldn't shake the thought that maybe, in the morning, he would leave, and she would be alone again. Her hand tightened briefly around his, lacing their fingers together.

Danny's eyes blinked open with a start, and he found his face buried in Lindsay's hair. He drew back for a moment, and Lindsay turned worriedly towards him. "Do you have to go?" she whispered.

"Where would I go?" he chuckled, and kissed her softly before settling onto his back. He reached out for her with one arm, and she cuddled into his side. She rested her head on his chest sleepily.

"I don't know. I thought maybe you had to leave," she murmured, closing her eyes.

"I'll tell you if I gotta go. But I'm not on shift," he muttered, and softly stroked her hair. He opened one eye and looked down at her. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I couldn't fall asleep," she explained.

"You need your sleep," he told her, waking up a little more with each passing second. "Are you cold? Do you want to put on some clothes?"

She shrugged.

He reached back to the headboard behind him, feeling around for the shirt he knew had been thrown over it. He wasn't sure whose it was, or who had thrown it, but he had definitely remembered seeing it. He finally found the soft cloth with his hand and brought it down to Lindsay. He helped Lindsay into it and recognized it as his own gray t-shirt from the way it sagged around her thin frame. He pulled her into his side again and closed his eyes, his hand softly stroking her hair.

"Better?" he asked softly.

She didn't respond, merely stared wide-eyed at the window beyond his body, and hoped he'd fall asleep or forget the question.

"Something wrong?" Danny asked, opening his eyes again.

"Just thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"Work. Celia. You."

"You worried about something?" he asked, pulling the blankets up a little higher over him and Lindsay. He turned on his side to face her.

"Nothing in particular," she murmured, tracing an invisible circle on his pectoral muscle.

"Talk it out," he suggested, cupping her cheek.

She sighed. "I just … it's hard to get used to it again."

"Get used to what?" he asked, willing his eyes to stay open and awake.

"You."

"Me?" he snorted, rubbing his thumb on the skin under her eye. "You still worried about what you said earlier?"

She nodded.

"I'm not leaving," he said softly, kissing her forehead. "So don't think that I am. Promise me that you'll stop thinking that." He drew back to look at her. He caught her gaze and stared deeply into her eyes. She blinked, but found she couldn't look away. "Promise," he said, watching her, "Promise me. You can't think that I'm going to leave. I love you. I'm staying. So promise."

"I promise," she whispered.

He bent in and kissed her again, rolling her onto her back. He twined his fingers with hers and stretched them out over her head, pressing her into the pillow with the weight of his body. He could feel her naked thighs on his, and took a deep intake of breath when her hand slid down his naked chest and her finger traced the edge of his hip. "Wait," he groaned, forcing the arousal out of his mind.

"What?" she asked breathlessly.

"We don't have any condoms," he chuckled, "And you have to sleep."

She pouted. "I'll get some tomorrow," she huffed dramatically, and turned onto her side. She took his arm and wrapped it around her again.

"I'll get 'em," he said, and kissed her neck before tucking her into his body and resting his head on the pillow. "Now go to sleep."

* * *

"_Hi, this is Paige Bright of Ellis Women's Clinic. Is this Lindsay Monroe?" _

"Uh, no, this is her … uh … her boyfriend. She isn't here right now. Can I take a message?" Danny asked, pulling over a sheet of paper from the kitchen counter and glancing over at a sleeping Lindsay on the couch. After a nearly sleepless night, he'd come from work to find her practically collapsing in tiredness on the couch, Celia in the playpen next to her.

"_Yes, we have her test results here from her doctor's appointment."_

"OK, I'll … test results? Is she OK?"

"_I'm sorry sir, but we can only give Ms. Monroe the information."_

"I know," Danny snapped, "But is she alright? I mean, is anything seriously wrong with her?"

The voice on the other end was silent for a moment. _"I'm sorry, sir, but that information must go directly to Ms. Monroe."_

"Is she sick? Does she need to go in to the doctor's again? Now? Should I be doin' somethin'?"

"_It's a relatively minor problem, sir."_

Danny breathed out a sigh of relief. "You couldn'ta said that to start?" he joked. He walked over to Lindsay and gently shook her awake before handing her the phone.

She talked quietly with the woman on the other end, nodding and making another appointment within the next two weeks. She sighed and hung up the phone before lying back down on the couch.

Danny, sitting at her feet, reached over and pulled her back up by her arm.

"What?" she mumbled sleepily.

"What was that? Are you healthy and alla that?"

"Yes," she chuckled, and dropped back down on the couch pillows.

Danny continued to stare at her with his piercing gaze, prompting her to continue. She looked up at him and sighed dramatically.

"I'm just a little anemic, that's all," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Anemic?" Danny asked, crawling up over on top of her. He matched his hips with hers and covered her mouth in a slow kiss. "Do you need me to pick you up any vitamins or anything?"

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "No, I'm fine," she sighed happily, and kissed him again. "I'll take care of it."

"I can do it. Did they say what kind of supplements you need? I'll pick 'em up now." He bent in further to her ear, "And I'll get the condoms, too."

"Goody," Lindsay giggled, and kissed him again, putting her hand on the back of his head and running her fingers through his short hair. He responded by slipping his hands under her waist and tugging her lower body closer against his. She started to unbutton his shirt, her fingers fumbling on the top button.

"Wait," he muttered, pulling away, "I need to do some shopping if we're going to do that."

"OK," she sighed, struggling to her elbows.

Danny frowned and got to his feet. The second he started to walk away from the couch, a wail sounded from Celia's bedroom. "I got it," he said, and headed in to see her.

He bent into the crib and pulled her out, patting her back and shushing her softly. "Daddy's right here, honey," he soothed. He rocked her back and forth, kissing her cheek. She wailed loudly, grabbing onto his shirt with her tiny, pudgy hands and pulling herself up on his torso. She sobbed until Danny brought her into the kitchen and pulled a bottle out of the fridge, which calmed her down considerably. He warmed it up quickly and walked over to the couch, where Lindsay was waiting for them.

Lindsay watched as Danny expertly fed Celia, patting her back when she needed it and holding the bottle at just the right angle for her.

Her tiny hands came up to press to the sides of the bottle, one of them resting on top of Danny's fingers.

"She can almost hold it by herself," he grinned, loosening his grip on the bottle a little bit. Celia's eyes flicked up to his, wide and observing. He winked at her, which made her push the bottle away from her mouth and laugh.

"Don't make her laugh while she's eating," Lindsay said, frowning, "she could choke."

"I can't help it," Danny said, directing the bottle back to Celia's mouth, "She likes me."

Lindsay laughed and ran her hand over Celia's wispy brown hair, which was starting to curl lightly at the ends. "Do you think she'll have curly hair?" she asked, twirling a strand of the soft brown hair in her fingers.

"I dunno, maybe," Danny said, holding the bottle to Celia's lips. "So, ah … do you want to go out tomorrow?"

"Hmm?" Lindsay asked, snapping back to reality from the image of Celia with long, curly brown hair.

"I don't know," Danny shrugged, "We could find a babysitter, and I'll take you out somewhere nice … I mean, if you want."

"That sounds really great, Danny," she said, "I'd love to."

"Yeah?" he asked, smiling at her.

"Yes," she giggled, "But you'd better do some shopping first."

"I will," he assured her, "You want me to go now?"

Lindsay shook her head. "Didn't you bring one over?"

His eyes widened. "Oh, yeah," he said, and picked up Celia. "It's in my wallet. I'll stick her back in bed and …" he smirked at her. "Back in a sec."

Lindsay leaned over the back of the couch and watched him go, smiling when Celia leaned forwards and pressed her mouth to his cheek, slobbering all over his skin. He laughed and tugged her off, holding her in front of him and swinging from side to side as he walked her into her bedroom to make her laugh.

* * *

Lindsay hugged his waist on the motorcycle the next night, her body flush with his back. They zoomed through the streets, and she knew Danny was going a little faster than the speed limit because he knew how she liked to feel the air all around her, as though she were flying. The chances of her getting cold in all that rushing air were slim: she had on a thick, heavy gray jacket, and tights under her jeans. Her fingers, although gloved, were stuck into the pockets of Danny's leather jacket, and her head was entirely covered by a helmet.

He'd asked her if she wanted romance, or fun. She'd asked for a combination, and so he'd taken her out on his bike to a tiny Italian restaurant shoved in a street corner with the most delicious tiramisu that Lindsay had ever tasted.

Danny pulled up into a parking garage, and parked the bike before helping Lindsay off. He put their helmets into the bike and took her hand, leading her out of the parking garage.

"So what movie d'you wanna see?" he asked.

She shrugged, simply enjoying being around him. He tugged her into the movie theater, which was considerably warmer than the snowy streets, and helped her take off her coat.

"I don't know, I heard _Australia _was good," he suggested.

"Sure," she said, and adjusted her soft cream sweater. She tucked her gloves into the pockets of her jacket, which Danny was holding over his arm as he stood in line. "Do you think Stella's all right?" she asked nervously, slipping her hand into the pocket of her jeans for her iphone.

Danny put his hand on top of hers and gently pulled it away, shaking his head. "They're fine."

"How do you know?" Lindsay asked nervously, stepping forwards in the line.

"Because Stella sent me a text while we were at the restaurant. And I called her when you went to the bathroom. Celia's asleep. So relax," he said, and bent forwards and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"Sorry," Lindsay said sheepishly, tucking the phone back into her pocket.

"Don't apologize," Danny chuckled, approaching the front of the line. He told the man at the register that they'd like two tickets and pulled out his wallet. He noticed that the gawky teen was staring at Lindsay, and practically drooling.

Danny glanced over at Lindsay, and saw that she wasn't paying attention, but was absently playing with the necklace she wore around her neck, her fingers trailing along the skin of her collarbone as she played with the tiny heart pendant. Danny doubted that she had any idea how she was drawing attention to the low neckline of her sweater.

"We need those tickets _today_, kid," Danny grunted, shoving his money through the slot towards the teen.

The kid blinked back to life and took the money, his eyes still flicking up to look at Lindsay, who was still lost in her thoughts.

The kid slowly handed Danny the tickets. Danny whipped them out of his hands and wrapped an arm around Lindsay's waist, pulling her back to reality. He tugged her into the theaters and kissed her temple, reminding himself that she was there with _him _and no one else.

* * *

They started kissing halfway through the previews, and didn't stop until the movie was over, which gave them a good excuse to make a date for the next Friday.

They walked out of the theater holding hands. Their entire arms were touching, and occasionally Danny would lean over and kiss the edge of Lindsay's ear.

"Hey, baby, lookin' hot," a heavily slurred voice came from the wall to their right.

Lindsay looked over at the source, where a stumbling man in a long, brown overcoat was pulling himself off of the wall and looking over at Lindsay. Danny tugged her back to his body and wrapped his arm around her waist protectively before chuckling in her ear, "Do you want your coat?"

She nodded and took it from him, pulling it on and buttoning it up to her chin. She loved how Danny bent in a little closer to her, covering her, and tightened his grip as though to reassure her that he was there. Sometimes his presence was all she missed when they were apart and broken up, just the thought that he was next to her and holding onto her.

Danny carefully led her away from the man and into the parking garage. He softly kissed her and wrapped his arms low around her waist. "You OK?" he asked, nuzzling her cheek.

"Yeah," she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Wanna go home?" he asked, covering her mouth in another kiss.

She shrugged and pecked him back. "I want to see Celia," she sighed, "She's never been alone with someone for this long except with you and me…"

"You're right; I'll take you home."

She almost laughed, seeing the same worry she felt mirrored in his eyes.

* * *

"Can't you try to crawl one more time?" Lindsay pleaded, patting her hands on the floor in front of her. She was sitting with her back to the wall of Celia's bedroom, Her jacket tossed to the side, wearing her soft cream colored sweater, her jeans, and her heels.

"Come on, Celia, go to mommy," Danny said, Celia lying facedown in between his legs. He gave her a pat on the bottom, pushing her a little bit.

"Brah!" she said, sounding incredibly distressed.

Danny laughed and picked her up. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before setting her back down. "Now go to mommy. Go ahead."

Lindsay stretched out her arms towards Celia. "Come on, honey, please?"

Celia, her tiny face furrowed in concentration, slapped her hands on the floor and kicked her leg. "Uh!" she said, and looked up at Lindsay.

"Please come to mommy?" Lindsay said hopefully.

Celia slapped her hands again and pulled herself forwards the smallest fraction of an inch, then looked up at Lindsay with an open-mouthed, gummy smile.

"You did it!" Lindsay shrieked happily, jumping to her feet.

Danny picked her up again and struggled to his feet, cradling her in his arms. "Didn't doubt you for a second, babe. Saw you the first time," he grinned, kissing her head. He patted Celia's back and ticked her cheek with one finger.

"She only does it when you're around," Lindsay said, frowning for a moment as she picked up the empty bottle and burping rag that they'd used to feed Celia only a few minutes before. She tossed the rag into the hamper and gave Celia a little kiss before heading into the kitchen to put the bottle in the dishwasher.

Danny carefully put Celia into her crib, rubbing her stomach affectionately. "You did so good," he smiled, and cupped the side of her face. "Goodnight. I love you, Celia." He walked out of the room and into the kitchen.

"I gotta go," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Why?" she asked, leaning back against him.

"Because I have work tomorrow – early. But I can come over after," he suggested.

She shook her head. "I have to work, too. Your mother is watching her while I'm at work, so if you want to pick her up from there and go back to your place, then that would work."

"I don't want her at my place. I painted her room yesterday, and I don't want her breathing in the fumes." He rocked Lindsay from side to side and slowly kissed her neck.

"OK, bring her here. Do you still have the key?"

"Of course I got the key. I'll pick her up when my shift is over. You want me to pick up some dinner for when you get off?"

"Yeah, that would be great," she sighed. "Do you really have to go?"

He nodded and turned her around to face him. He bent forwards and kissed her, wrapping his hand around the back of her head and pulling her towards him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held onto him as his tongue probed into her mouth, finding hers. "I'll see you in the morning," he said, once he broke away.

"Thanks for tonight," she said, smiling up at him, "I had a great time."

"Good, good," he said, "Me, too. We'll do it again next week, OK? How about next Friday?"

She nodded and hugged him. "Bye," she said regretfully.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he assured her, and kissed her quickly.

She continued to hold onto his waist.

"Linds, I gotta go," he said, running his hand over her hair. She sighed and let go.

"I'd walk you out, but …"

"It's late and Celia's in here. I know," he said, giving her a grin. "I'll see you." He let go of her and walked out, giving a quick wave to her as he left.


	13. Chapter 13

"Hey," Lindsay said walking into her and Danny's office at work. She dropped an envelope on his desk. He glanced down at it, and saw her name printed in his messy scrawl across the middle. He shoved it towards her side of the long desk. "

This is yours," he said.

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not taking it," she said, leaning against his desk, next to his legs.

"Why's that?" he asked, "It has your name on it."

"And it has your money inside of it," she said, tugging the check out of the envelope with a finger.

"That's your money, Linds, that's child support," he said, "We agreed when you were like six months along that I'd pay child support. You know that."

"You paid child support last week," she said, frowning at him, "And we had this same talk, because you paid a _thousand_ dollars over what we agreed on. Which you did here, too."

"Oh, come on, Linds, she's my daughter. Just put it in her college fund or somethin'. It's goin' to her anyways."

Lindsay sighed heavily. "Look, Danny, you _need _this money! You can't just throw money at me like this. You have bills to pay, you need money for food, and not all of that goes to Celia!"

Danny leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and watching her back with the same strong gaze with which she was looking at him. "I can give her as much money as I want," he said, "She's my daughter. I want to spoil her, I will."

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Don't be irresponsible, Danny."

"I know you've got lots of stuff to pay off," he said, watching her, "All those hospital bills that the insurance didn't cover, all that baby junk, the moving from one apartment to another –"

"Thanks for listing all my expenses, Danny, I appreciate that," she huffed, and tried to turn away. He snagged her arm and pulled her into his lap, adjusting her so she sat down properly.

"Look, it's a lot of crap to pay for, and I had fifty percent of the responsibility for it. So let me pay for some of it, at least. For the birth – let me cover that. And the diapers, I'll pay for those from now on, and the changing table. Can I do that?"

She pursed her lips, thinking it over. "It's not like you earn more than me," she argued, "Or that you can just afford all of this just out of the blue."

He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, caressing her smooth skin, and knowing it would distract her. "I have some cash saved up. And it's not like it's going to hurt her to have a nice fat college fund."

Lindsay caved to his stroking of her arm and relaxed in his hold. "I guess."

"So you'll take it? Pay off some of those bills?"

She nodded and got up off of his lap. "Fine," she sighed, "But if you need that money back, you have to tell me."

"I won't, but I'll let you know," he said, grinning. "Now get to work."

* * *

Lindsay was exhausted. Celia had been up the entire night, screaming and crying. Coming off of a tiring shift, Lindsay had picked her up from Danny's mother's house, and Celia had turned into a nightmare. She refused to be set down, refused to eat almost anything more than an ounce of milk, and rarely stopped whimpering and crying.

Lindsay was sitting with her on the couch, Celia crying in her lap, Lindsay's head thrown back against the headboard. She'd woken up at four in the morning to get to work on time, and since then her day had been nothing but stress.

The phone rang noisily, which set Celia off to crying at an even louder pitch.

Lindsay picked it up quickly and stood up, jiggling Celia in her arms.

"Hello?" she said in a breathy voice.

"_Hey, it's me," _Danny said cheerfully.

"Oh, my god, the date!" Lindsay said, slapping a hand to her forehead. She had to speak up over the sound of Celia's cries.

"_Yeah, tonight," _Danny said.

"I'm so sorry, Danny, but I –"

"_No, it's fine. I was calling you to postpone anyways. My nonna called, says she needs me to do some stuff for her in her apartment. Her dishwasher's broken. We'll do it another time. Is Celia OK? I can hear her crying."_

"She's OK, just fussy," Lindsay said tiredly.

"_Want me to come over and help out?"_

"No, that's fine," Lindsay said, "You go help your grandmother. I'll take care of her."

"_Are you sure? 'Cause if you need a break, then I can call her and tell her I'm busy…"_

The offer was incredibly tempting, but Lindsay really didn't feel like dumping a screaming baby on Danny, especially since she knew he was coming off of a double shift. "No, I can take care of her. I'll talk to you soon, OK?"

"_A'right. Sorry about tonight. Love you. Tell Celia I love her. Bye."_

"I will. Bye." Lindsay jabbed the end call button on her phone and tossed it onto the couch before putting both her arms around Celia and patting the baby's back. "Shh-shh, honey, please," she begged.

* * *

An hour later, Celia coughed for the tenth time and rested her head on Lindsay's shoulder, tears still running down her chubby cheeks. Lindsay wrapped her arms around the baby and looked curiously at her hot, pink cheeks, which she had previously attributed to the crying.

Worried, Lindsay went to the bathroom and pulled out the infant thermometer. She turned it on and stuck it under Celia's arm, holding it there until it beeped loudly. She checked it, and her eyes widened.

Her first thought was calling Danny. As she picked up her phone, she realized that Celia's health came first. She dialed a number quickly and pressed the phone to her ear. He picked up on the first ring.

"_Hey, Lindsay, how –"_

"Sheldon, I need your help. Celia's got a fever of a hundred, and she's coughing and she won't eat and she won't stop crying –"

"_I'll be right there. Take a deep breath."_

* * *

Hawkes gently tapped Celia's back before handing her back to Lindsay. "It's probably just a cold – her chest is congested."

The door to Lindsay's apartment slammed open and Danny ran in, dripping melting snow over Lindsay's carpet. "She OK? What's wrong – is she sick? Should we take her to the hospital? I've got one of the department cars, we can turn the lights on – here, I'll take her."

"You called him?" Hawkes said coolly, turning to Lindsay.

She nodded absentmindedly, her hand on Celia's hot little cheek.

"She's fine," Hawkes said, glancing up at Danny with cool eyes.

Danny ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "Are you sure? She's not hurt?" He stepped forwards to take Celia from Lindsay's arms.

Hawkes shook his head. "You shouldn't touch her," he said, putting an arm in front of Celia.

Danny looked at him furiously, but took a breath and calmed down. "Why?" he asked, hurt and angry.

"You're cold. She's sick. Don't touch her. It's simple," he said, glaring at Danny.

"What the hell is your problem?" Danny said angrily, "She's my daughter. I want to see if she's OK."

"And you're going to make her worse if you do touch her," Hawkes said, standing up.

Danny glared back at him and opened his mouth to swear when Lindsay stood up, holding Celia. "Stop. Both of you. Sheldon, do you need to check her out any more?"

He nodded and took the baby from Lindsay's arms, easily patting her on the back and comforting her as a cough bubbled up in her chest. Danny watched him with narrowed eyes.

"Danny," Lindsay said, resting her open hand on his chest, "Please. I'll call you with details. Just …"

"Go?" he asked, shifting his glare to Lindsay.

She winced, and he eased up. "OK," he said finally, "I'll go in the Starbucks down the street. Call me when you know what's going on, or if we need to take her to the hospital." He turned with one last glance at Celia, and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

When Celia was in a light sleep on Sheldon's chest, and the proper medication was sitting on her coffee table, Hawkes got up and handed Celia to Lindsay. "Call me if she needs help. You remember what I told you?"

Lindsay nodded and cuddled Celia to her chest. "Thank you, Sheldon," she said.

He put his hand on the back of Celia's little head and brushed a kiss to her hair. "I'm just being her godfather," he grinned, and kissed Lindsay's cheek. "Tell me how she's doing tomorrow."

* * *

Danny tapped his foot on the floor with nervous, pent up energy. He'd bought a coffee to waste time, and he measured the seconds in quick sips. He checked his watch, his phone, and looked up at the door of the shop for the thousandth time.

He took another sip. He checked his watch. He checked his phone. He looked up at the door.

As he was turning back to his coffee, the door chimed open. Danny looked up immediately, and saw Hawkes looking around for him. Sheldon walked over to his table, where Danny had stood up and was gathering his things.

"She all right?" Danny asked anxiously.

Sheldon nodded. "It's just some chest congestion. She'll be fine."

Danny visibly relaxed, though only by a fraction. "Is she in pain? Does she need anything? 'Cause I can get her something at a pharmacy, or if she needs to go to the hospital –"

"She'll be fine," Sheldon assured him, "It's not that serious. She just needs to be monitored a little bit."

Danny nodded and shoved his keys and phone in his pocket. He chucked his pocket in the trash. "Thanks," he said sincerely, and headed out the door.

"Hey," Sheldon said, putting a hand on Danny's shoulder.

Danny stopped and looked at him, wary of what he might say.

"You didn't fight me," Sheldon remarked, "I thought you were going to."

Danny shrugged. "Celia needed you."

"And you left the apartment when Lindsay asked you to, and you stayed and waited here." Sheldon seemed almost surprised as he stated this, as though he was still digesting the new side of Danny that he'd witnessed.

Danny shrugged again. "You were helping them."

Sheldon nodded, a little surprised, and headed outside with Danny. "It might be a good idea to pick up a humidifier," he said as Danny turned towards Lindsay's building, "But for now, just hold her in a steamy bathroom to clear up some of that congestion. That should work fine. If you're worried about something, call me."

Danny nodded briskly and walked towards Lindsay's apartment building. He could barely contain himself as he walked up the steps, taking them two by two and sometimes leaping up three at a time. When he got to her door, he pushed it open and shut it quickly behind him.

"Linds?" he called out softly.

She appeared from Celia's bedroom, looking haggard and worn. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and ran a hand through her hair. "Hi," she said sleepily.

"How is she?" he asked worriedly, resting a comforting hand along Lindsay's cheek and peering into the nursery.

"She's OK, now," Lindsay sighed. Just as she spoke, a whimper came from the bedroom and Celia kicked her feet wearily.

Danny took off his coat and threw it over the couch. He took off his gloves and rubbed his hands together, attempting to warm them up, and headed into the bedroom. He gently lifted Celia out of the crib and patted her back, speaking softly and comfortingly to her.

"Should I go and get a humidifier?" he asked, patting Celia's back.

Lindsay nodded sleepily, feeling more and more tired now that Danny was there to take care of Celia with her. "Tomorrow," she said, walking closer to him. "I should feed her. Sheldon said she needed fluids."

"Are there any bottles in the fridge?" he asked, "'Cause I can warm some up and you can go to sleep. You look tired." He reached out and smoothed her hair back lovingly, trailing his fingertips on the side of her face.

She nodded. "There are a few," she said tiredly.

"Then go to bed, OK?"

She nodded sleepily.

"I'm gonna sleep in Celia's room tonight, in case she gets worse," he said, "Unless you want me to move the playpen into your bedroom again."

"Don't bother," Lindsay said tiredly, "It's OK. You can go home, Danny, I think the medicine Sheldon gave her is working. I'll sleep in her room. You don't have to stay."

"I want to stay," he said, "You might need me. You're tired, and you've been taking care of her all day. Let me help."

She nodded.

Danny walked her into her bedroom, holding Celia, and helped her into the bed. He tugged back the covers with one hand, Celia in his arms, and pulled them up over her. He ran his fingers through her hair and smiled down at her. "I'll see you in the morning," he whispered, watching as her eyes shut quickly and her breathing deepened.

Danny spent that night alternating between holding Celia on his lap in a steamy bathroom, and watching her stomach move up and down as she slept. He barely let her utter a whimper before he'd picked her up again, patting her back and shushing her so she wouldn't wake Lindsay.

Lindsay found the two of them in the morning, Danny splayed out over the rocking chair, his arms thrown to the sides and his head back over the headrest, Celia breathing peacefully in her crib.

Lindsay checked briefly on Celia, then went over to Danny. She realized that he'd probably had a hard night, so she bent down and softly kissed his head. She went into the kitchen and started preparing breakfast.

Danny padded in a few minutes later, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "What time is it?" he grunted.

"Around eleven."

"I've got to be in at two," he said, "But I'll call in so I can stay with her."

Lindsay's face softened as she looked at him. "You don't have to do that," she said gently, "I can take care of her."

Danny shook his head. "I want to. I have to," he murmured, and sat down at her little table. He watched her make waffles and drop one onto a plate for him. She handed him the jar of syrup.

Celia whimpered from her bedroom, the sound scratchy through the baby monitor. Lindsay put a hand on Danny's shoulder to stop him from getting up, and went into the nursery to get Celia herself. "You took care of her all night. Let me," she said, and went into the bedroom.

Celia was whimpering and waving her arms up for Lindsay to pick her up. Lindsay carefully brought the baby to her chest and kissed her hair. "Oh, my poor baby," she said, patting Celia's back. "You want some food?" she asked.

She brought Celia into the kitchen, holding the little girl tenderly. Danny already had a bottle ready for her, and held it out. "I tested it already on my wrist – it's fine," he said, and watched Lindsay hold it to Celia's lips.

Celia whimpered and turned her head away. "Come on, Celia, you have to eat," Danny said, reaching out for Celia.

"Please, honey?" Lindsay pleaded.

"Ah!" Celia cried, and coughed.

"What about breastfeeding? Doesn't she like that?" Danny suggested.

"I'll try it," Lindsay said, and walked over to one of the chairs at the table. She tugged her shirt up and unfastened the nursing bra she was wearing, holding Celia to her breast.

"Please eat?" Danny soothed.

Seemingly to Danny's instruction, Celia opened her mouth and started nursing on Lindsay's breast.

Lindsay sighed in relief, then winced as Celia sucked hard.

Danny smiled down at her. "Good girl," he cooed. "I think she's feeling better," he said. "But I'll pick up a humidifier as soon as I get dressed."

"You left some jeans here the other day – I tried to fit into them but they were too big," she giggled. "Barely, anyways."

"What is this new thing you're doing?" Danny asked, fixing the socks on Celia's feet. "Thinking you're fat or something? You're anemic. And skinny as hell."

Lindsay looked at him, surprised. "Danny, I had to gain thirty pounds while I was pregnant. And it's not like I've had time to work it off –"

"Don't," he snapped. Maybe it was the lack of sleep that was making his voice so bitter, or serious, or maybe it was a release of the worry he'd felt over Celia in the past twenty four hours. "You've worked it all off, and then some. No more losing weight."

Lindsay snorted. "You think you can just tell me what to do like that?"

"I can if you're hurting yourself," he said angrily.

"I'm not hurting myself!" she shouted.

"Yes, you are," he snapped, "You aren't taking care of yourself. What the hell is wrong with you, Lindsay, that you can't pick up a phone and call me when you're overworked? Why can't you let me help? You're working yourself down to the bone in this, and it's all your own damn fault!"

"My fault?" she yelled, "_My_ fault_?_"

Danny froze, realizing whose fault it really was. He saw her, breathing heavily and tenderly holding his sick daughter, who was pouting and beginning to whimper.

"I can't do this," he said, watching the two of them. He couldn't hurt Lindsay again, couldn't speak another word for fear he spit out something awful that ruined what he had with her. He couldn't yell anymore, because he didn't want to be that kind of father to Celia, the kind that screamed and shouted and threw plates at the walls.

"You're leaving?" Lindsay said, her eyes filling with tears, "You're going to leave? Again?"

"No, Linds, I'm not –"

"I can't believe you!" she shrieked. She turned around and walked towards Celia's bedroom. "You leave when things get too difficult, Danny, and I thought you'd stopped!"

She stomped into Celia's bedroom, Danny tagging along behind her, trying to get her attention. "How could I have been so stupid," she whispered, putting Celia back into the crib.

When Celia was out of her arms, Danny grabbed Lindsay's arm and whipped her around. He bent in and kissed her hungrily, wrapping his hand around her cheek, his tongue reaching into her mouth. "I'm not leaving. I told you that," he said, breaking away with a slight pant to his tone. "You're not stupid for believing that."

She watched him as he softly pushed her hair back behind her ears. "I'll never leave. I want to be with you, Lindsay, and I always have. I was just scared, because we were moving so fast and my life was changing so quickly and there was nothing I could do to stop it. And I wanted to be with you, but I didn't know if I was ready."

"You asked me to marry you," Lindsay chuckled, "That was ready."

He shook his head. "It was for the wrong reasons, and you knew that. That's why you said no."

She nodded and clutched his arm, holding his hands to her face. "Maybe that was the wrong thing to do," she said wistfully.

He shook his head. "You did the right thing," he said.

* * *

Lindsay thought back to the terror in his eyes when he'd said it, and the hesitation. She'd felt backed into a corner, and saw all the fear she felt in the creases of Danny's face. She'd tried to say yes, but the word would not form. As she'd attempted to get the word out of her mouth, the only image that had come to her had been a screaming baby and a pile of divorce papers. It was the way he'd said it that hurt the most – _"Should we get married then?"_ – as though it were a step, a task, a duty.

"_Why are you asking me?" _she'd asked softly.

He'd blinked, and shoved his hands into his pockets before mumbling, _"It's the right thing to do."_

"_Not for us," _she'd replied quietly, and had reached out to touch his arm. He'd flinched away from her touch, watching her with hurt and anger, and then she knew she'd lost him, had lost his love anyways. They'd stayed together for nearly a month after that before they'd called it quits.

* * *

"I want you to marry me for the right reason," he said, hugging her and resting his chin on her head.

"What is that, exactly?" she asked, enjoying his arms around her. They were warm, heated by sleep.

"Love. Because you want to."

They were silent, enjoying the quiet and monitoring Celia's snuffly breathing. "I wish it were me that was sick," Lindsay sighed.

"Same," Danny said, tensing as he saw Celia hesitate in a breath, before relaxing as she did. "It sucks." He frowned, watching Celia pause again in her breath. "I'm gonna go get a humidifier," he said, releasing Lindsay's waist, "I'll be back in a sec."

"Thanks," Lindsay said quietly, "I can give you some money for –"

"No," Danny said, "I'll get it." He bent in and kissed her softly, his hand around the back of her neck. He rested his hand briefly on Celia's head, brushing back her light brown hair and rubbing his thumb across her forehead.

"I'll be right back," he said to the both of them, and left.

* * *

A day later, Lindsay lay in bed, coughing. Danny came in with a cup of tea and set it by her bed. "Drink up," he said, helping her sit up.

"I can't believe I got sick," Lindsay said groggily, "How's Celia doing? What did Sheldon say?"

"The doc just left, but he says that Celia's doing fine. Here, drink this." He held the tea to her lips and she took a long sip of the warmed liquid. She almost spat it out.

"What is that?" she asked, coughing as the liquid seeped down her throat.

"It's wellness tea," he said, "The packet said it was good for colds and flu. Try to drink it all."

Lindsay shook her head. "No way," she said hoarsely, "that stuff tastes like crap."

"Drink," Danny said, frowning.

"You're mean," she said with a pout, and took a long sip of the tea. She grimaced and swallowed it. "Oh, this is so nasty," she whined.

"You're such a baby," Danny chuckled, "I'm takin' care of two infants, here."

"Shut up. I'm sick," Lindsay said, her nose stuffed, "You should be pitying me, not making fun of me."

"I am pitying you," Danny said, scooting her over on the bed and sliding in beside her. He dropped the mug of tea on the bedside table and pulled Lindsay into his side. "My poor, sick, girlfriend," he said in an overly dramatic whisper, smoothing her hair and kissing her forehead.

"That's more like it," she said, sniffing, and closed her eyes. She rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Poor me," she said.

"Do you want me to get you some food?" he asked, continuing to smooth down her messy hair. "I can make you some soup, if you want. Chicken noodle, minestrone…"

"Chicken soup, please," she said sleepily.

"A'right, I'll go get it started," he said, sliding out of the bed.

"Tell Celia I say hi," Lindsay said, pouting.

"I know you want to see her," Danny said, "but not until you're better, OK?"

"OK," she sighed, and collapsed onto the pillows with a loud whoosh. She rolled over onto her back and grabbed one of the magazines Danny had brought over when he went to get supplies for her. She was medicated to the brim with Dayquil, and she could barely think straight with all the congestion clouding her nose and her sinuses.

She heard Danny's voice come through the baby monitor as he went to check on Celia. Celia was sniffling and giggling as Danny talked to her.

Lindsay smiled as she heard Danny explain that as soon as she was better, he would take her out to a Mets game. But she had to get better first, or he wasn't taking her anywhere.

He headed to the kitchen, where Lindsay could hear him assembling pots and pans for the soup. She smiled, and couldn't imagine what would happen when he left, because she couldn't imagine a minute without him.


	14. Chapter 14

"Look at the skaters, Celia! No, over there – wait, this way, Celia," Lindsay said, trying to turn her daughter's body towards Wollman Rink in Central Park, where a large group of people were skating around the rink. "Look, Celia!" she said excitedly.

She jostled Celia on her arm as she leaned on the railing and pointed to the skaters. Celia blinked. She was wearing her baby winter snowsuit, which essentially turned her into an immobile pile of cloth and padding. She could barely reach her hands up to her mouth to suck on her fist, as she loved to do.

"See, honey?" Lindsay said brightly, plopping the clear pink pacifier back into Celia's mouth. "Mommy used to be the best ice skater, did you know that?" She kissed Celia's head and jutted her hip out more to make a better seat for the infant. "Your mommy won first prize in third through sixth grade, every last day of school before winter break. The whole school used to go to the pond down in the middle of the city – town, I guess your daddy would call it – and we'd have a competition. And guess who won every year?" she giggled.

Celia, watching Lindsay's face change into a laugh, gurgled happily, causing her pacifier to slip out of her mouth. Lindsay stuck it back in as Celia watched with a curious expression, seemingly confused as to why the pacifier was not in her mouth anymore.

"You're going to learn how to skate, too," Lindsay explained, "As soon as you can walk well. I'll take you here and I'll teach you, OK?"

"Sounds pretty dangerous," Danny said from behind her. She'd called him and left a message on his phone, asking if he wanted to meet up at the park for a hot chocolate. "Skatin' and alla that."

"Not if you're good at it," Lindsay smiled, turning around.

He bent in and kissed Lindsay, a little harder and more passionate than she would have expected in such a public place. His hand was along the side of her cheek, his gray knit glove warm on her cold face.

After he pulled away with a small smirk, he kissed the top of Celia's head, at the tip of her thick white beanie.

"So, you wanna tell me what the two of you are thinkin', standing out in the cold while you're still sick?" he asked with a smirk, and moved to stand at the fence with Lindsay, his arm around her shoulders.

"I wanted to see the skaters. And Celia's well, and I'm almost over my cold." She leaned on Danny's torso and pulled Celia's warm knit cap over her ears, making sure the baby was warm.

Danny carefully extracted the puffy Celia from Lindsay's arms and cuddled her against his chest. "You like the skaters, baby?" he asked her, taking her hand in his and pointing towards the gliding bodies on the ice.

Celia sucked on the pacifier contentedly.

"So, I, uh, checked out that doctor Celia's been going to," he said, "And the guy checked out."

"Good," Lindsay said with a smile. She did not explain to Danny that she'd already checked out Celia's doctor on her eighth month of pregnancy. She put her arm around Danny's waist, just above his hips, and watched the skaters.

"So you told Stella you're lookin' for a babysitter?"

Lindsay shrugged. "Celia hates day care, and I can't possibly rely on your mother all the time."

"Why not?" Danny asked.

"Because she already had and raised her children," Lindsay explained, "She has her own life to live now."

"So Stella said you found one."

"Yep."

"And it's a guy."

"Uh-huh."

"So can I just get this straight? You're going to have some random person that neither you nor I know –"

"I ran a background check, and he's clean –"

"And he's going to be alone with our daughter for long periods of time, and he'll have access to all of your things, and he could do anything to Celia and you might not even know –"

Lindsay looked up at him, horrified. "He wouldn't do anything to her like – like – oh, God, Danny, how can you even think that; she's five months old!"

Danny frowned at her with a grim expression on his face. "It's happened before," he said gravely, "Just a little while ago, some guy was babysitting a five month old in Pittsburg and –"

Lindsay's hands flew to her ears, shaking slightly. "Danny, stop," she pleaded.

Danny sighed heavily but stopped talking. "I'm not comfortable with it."

"Well I need a babysitter."

"Why?"

Lindsay turned to look at the skaters. "We both work, Danny. Sometimes at the same time. I need someone I can rely on to come over and take care of Celia when we're busy."

"Then let _me _find a babysitter," Danny suggested.

"Why am I not capable of getting a babysitter?" Lindsay asked angrily, "What do you have that I don't? What can you do that I can't?"

"You're a hundred and ten pound chick from Montana."

"So?" Lindsay yelled.

Danny sighed. "Look, Lindsay, first off, I know perfectly well that you can take down any perp, any day. I also know you're crazy smart, and you can read people pretty damn well. But it doesn't look like it, OK? It looks like you're some tiny little single mother who can't lift a stack of books."

"Again, so?" Lindsay asked, getting more and more angry at him.

Danny ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I don't look like that."

"So you can pick a better babysitter than me because you're intimidating?"

"Yeah," he said, "that's exactly it, actually."

Lindsay huffed and rolled her eyes. "That's ridiculous."

"Tell me somethin', and be honest. Are you gonna try to pull something on someone who looks like me, or someone who looks like you?"

Lindsay opened her mouth to say something, but thought it over, and closed it. She frowned and took Celia from Danny's arms, nuzzling into Celia's cheek. She held the baby to her chest. "I still need a babysitter."

"Then I'll find you one."

"Soon."

"A'right, a'right. Soon. What happened to that neighbor of yours?"

"She's back in school. She doesn't have time," Lindsay sighed.

"So we use my mom until I find one, OK?"

"Two more weeks. That's the limit. In two weeks, I want a steady babysitter."

"Can you at least meet the one I picked out?" she asked, fixing Celia's hat again, "He's really sweet, and I think you might like him."

"Is he straight?" Danny asked.

"Yes, I think so," Lindsay said.

"Then I won't like him."

"You mean you want to have a gay babysitter? Wow, Danny, I didn't know you swung that way," Lindsay said, winking at him.

"I don't want some guy hanging out around you and Celia all the time."

"Jealous?" Lindsay asked, nudging him with her hip.

"Yeah. Frankly, I think this guy's got ulterior motives if he's gonna accept a job as a babysitter for you. I mean, look at you – any guy would want to work for you. And if he's some kind of sick pervert, then this is the perfect –"

"Stop," Lindsay said, her voice suddenly trembling again.

Danny stopped talking and wrapped his arm around Lindsay, gently pulling her into his side. He glanced down at Celia, who was happily sucking on her pacifier and watching the skaters as Lindsay held her, facing out, to her chest. He bent down to her mouth and kissed her softly, one hand on Celia's stomach in case the baby slipped down Lindsay's chest. He kissed her until her taste was permanent in his mouth.

* * *

"How're you feelin'?" Danny asked brightly, spotting Lindsay as she walked down the hallway to their office.

Lindsay smiled back and kissed him quickly. "Great," she said excitedly, "Your mom has Celia until six tonight, and I get off at four. My cold is gone, so is Celia's, and I am going to have two whole hours to do whatever I want."

"Oh, yeah?" Danny asked with a smirk, pulling out her chair for her so she could sit down.

Lindsay nodded and sat down, pulling her chair in towards the desk and pulling a load of files towards her. She leaned back for a minute, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I think I'm going to clean the apartment," she said contentedly.

"That gets you goin'?" Danny chuckled, "Cleanin' the apartment?"

Lindsay shrugged and giggled, "It's the little things." She sat up and opened the first file, reacquainting herself with a case involving a blood-splattered Yorkshire terrier and a dead owner.

"I could clean your apartment," Danny said, "You know, that six month warranty on the I'll-do-your-chores offer isn't over yet."

"Oh like you have time for that," Lindsay scoffed, flipping the pages of the file.

"I do!" he insisted, looking up at her, "Whatever you want – groceries, apartment maid service –"

"Dinner?" she asked with a grin on her face.

"You want to go out again?" he asked.

She nodded. "It got cancelled last week," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but we spend the next three dinners together while you and Celia were getting better," he said.

"But can't we go out?" she pleaded.

"Sure," he chuckled, "How about next Wednesday? We have the next day off, so we can stay out … or in." He winked, in case she didn't get the blatant hint.

Lindsay blushed but giggled. "Sounds good."

They returned to work, although the thoughts going through their heads were not entirely focused on the files in front of them. After a while, Danny spoke up again.

"Are you really going to spend your two hours of freedom cleaning your apartment? There are other things you can do alone, you know."

"I know," Lindsay said, "But I want to do it. I just want a few hours of sound control in my apartment. You know – when she's sleeping, I have to be absolutely quiet, and when she's awake, she's the loudest person for miles. I think I'll put some music on, make myself dinner – quiet time," she sighed happily.

Danny grinned and continued reading his case. Realizing something, he sat up straight in his chair. "I gotta go," he said, "I gotta check one of the trees at this scene. I think I know where the bullet went. Finally." He picked up his cell phone and dialed Angell's number. "See ya around," he said, and headed out.

* * *

Danny got off his shift earlier than Lindsay, and headed over to his mother's apartment. He walked in the door and chucked his jacket onto a chair. "MA!" he yelled through the apartment

The minute he spoke, a loud wail sounded from the back room.

"Oops," Danny muttered, and headed towards the kitchen. Celia was sitting in a baby rocking chair that was set on the kitchen table, her hands flailing as she kicked her feet and fought the seatbelt that was holding her in.

Danny's mother was holding a plush bunny with bells on the ends of its ears and shaking it furiously in front of Celia.

"I can't believe you," Julia said, glaring over at Danny, "You come in like you're fifteen again. No respect – NONE!"

Danny sighed, hooked a finger around the rocking chair, and tugged it towards him. Celia's cries settled to whimpers immediately, and she reached her hands up at Danny, opening and closing them. Danny unhooked her and lifted her up, patting her back softly.

"Shh-shh," Danny whispered to her ear, "I'm sorry I yelled."

Celia calmed down and shoved a fist in her mouth. Danny cupped her neck and head with one of his large hands and held her back a little bit, squinting at her and checking her breathing to make sure the cold hadn't returned.

"Lindsay said she was better- you think she's sick again?" Julia asked worriedly, bending in to Celia.

"Nope," Danny said, "Just checking. In case." He rested Celia back against his chest and patted her back. "So how was she?" he asked.

Julia smiled, her warm blue eyes crinkling. "Perfect," she said, rubbing Celia's soft brown curls. "She pushed herself up into a crawl, and moved forwards about a foot before getting tired," she said proudly. "Isn't that right?" she cooed, kissing Celia's forehead.

"Told you she could do it," Danny grinned.

"She's also making those sounds you mentioned- the ah-goo thing she does."

Danny laughed. "Yeah, it sounds pretty freaky, doesn't it?"

Julia shrugged, her eyes shining, "You used to do the same thing, you know. Your first sound was 'gah.'" She sighed and reached up to rest her hand on Danny's hair. "You were such a cute baby. What happened?"

Danny made a face, which made Celia laugh loudly, grabbing onto Danny's shirt with her tiny fists.

Julia made some lunch for herself and Danny while Danny fed Celia one of the bottles that Lindsay had sent over with the baby.

When she was finished, she and Danny sat down to eat the sandwiches she had prepared, with Celia nestled in one of Danny's arms.

"Do you want to put her down?" Julia asked, pulling her silvery blonde graying hair into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck.

Danny shook his head. "I haven't seen her all day," he explained. Celia's feet rested on his thigh, and he felt her comfortable, tiny weight on his body. "And since I don't live with her, I kinda like to hang out with her as much as I can."

Julia watched her son and his daughter over the top of her glass of water. She set it down and rubbed Danny's arm. "You're such a good father," she said with a smile.

"Well it ain't hard to beat dad's example," Danny muttered.

Julia blinked, taken aback by the response. "Well, Danny, you have to remember that some men just aren't ready to be fathers," she said, stumbling on her words, "Just like some women aren't ready to be mothers."

Danny, finished with his sandwich, moved Celia to the front of his chest, holding her there with crossed arms under her butt as she watched him with her big eyes and grabbed his ear, holding onto it with a damp, soft little hand. "There's a difference between not being ready and takin' it out on someone," Danny said, anger from decades ago burning in his stomach again. "I mean, it ain't that hard."

"Being a father isn't hard?" Julia scoffed, "Daniel, there's no way you believe that."

"Not being a father. That's hard. I know," he said, "But knowin' when to stop? When to quit yellin' and blamin' everyone for it? That ain't hard."

Julia kept her words in her mouth, but her gaze said it all. Had her son known when it was time to stop being a child and take responsibility for his own child? He'd caught himself at the last moment, and had pulled on the full responsibility when it really mattered most, but was that enough?

Danny withered under her gaze, and stood. "Thanks for lunch, ma. I talked to Linds before I left, and said I'd drop Celia off at her place 'cause I wanna show her the room I got set up for her."

The accusation faded quickly from Julia's face, and she stood as well. "Did you drive here?"

Danny shook his head. "Subway and ferry. You got her stroller?" he asked.

Julia shook her head. "Lindsay brought her over with the baby sling. She loves that thing," she said with a smile.

"Who, Linds, or Celia?" Danny asked with a smirk. He knew that Celia loved to be close to her parents, and was always fussing in the stroller. Lindsay hated bringing around a cumbersome stroller, preferring instead to keep Celia close to her body so she could move more freely.

Julia laughed and handed Danny the sling, which was sitting on the counter, near the sink. Danny hoisted the baby bag strap over his shoulder, then the sling, then sat Celia in it carefully.

He held her up to the window on the Staten Island ferry, pointing out what she could see through it. "There's the statue of liberty," he said, pointing out the window. Did you know your daddy climbed it once?" he chuckled, twirling one of her little wavy curls in his finger. "It was pretty windy up there. And look, can you see the empire state building? Way over in all those buildings in front of us? It's got a big old pole at the top. I was up there, too, with Uncle Sheldon and Mac. That one was _really _windy, and crazy high up, too."

Celia giggled at his expression.

"Yeah, I hope you don't go up that high. It's not safe," he said, sitting her back down on his lap. He ran a hand through her hair. "You're gonna be something safe when you grow up. Like a professor at a university or somethin'. Maybe a writer – I dunno. Somethin' smart. An historian. Whatcha think?"

Celia watched him with her big blue eyes, her mouth opened in a little red circle. Danny grinned. "It's a long way off, I know," he said, and set her back against his chest. "We'll work on getting you walking first."

He brought her to his apartment, and set her down for a nap in her newly painted room.

"You like the walls, Celia?" he asked, grinning at her. He rubbed her stomach softly, watching her little eyes flutter closed, her pacifier moving slower and slower as sleep overtook her. "You'll see 'em when you wake up," he said with a smile, and bent down to kiss her goodnight before pulling the side of the crib up.

As she napped, he showered quickly and fooled around on his laptop, emailing friends and checking on cases for work.

* * *

As Danny and Celia were comfortably settled in Danny's apartment, Lindsay and Flack were heading to a scene on Fifth Avenue. Lindsay had her feet crossed in front of her, and a cup of hot chocolate in her hand – Flack's apology for bringing her out to the scene.

"I just can't believe you pissed off a CSI that badly," Lindsay said with an exaggerated sigh.

"I didn't piss anyone off," Flack defended, "Some poor kid is lying on the floor with a bullet wound in his head, and that little shithead is crackin' jokes about why the kid was naked. He pissed _me _off, and so I sent him back to the lab."

"And then decided to give me another case to add to the trillions I have to work," Lindsay said, half-joking.

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry, a'right? I just can't work with that little –"

"You're right, Collins is a little shithead. He can't take anything seriously," Lindsay agreed, grinning at Flack, "I get why you couldn't work with him. I can barely talk to him."

"Good, then it's not just m–"

Within seconds, their car was smashed to the left by a large, black Hummer. A hubcap skittered to the center of the street as a scream locked in Lindsay's throat.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys! Thanks for the support and everything. So at the beginning of this chapter, two particular characters sound like wimps, but please keep in mind that they are not exactly thinking straight, and therefore a little bit hazy. And they're still shaken up. So that's why they're acting a little bit weak. Not because they are.**

**P.S. The next one, DTD :P**

* * *

Don lifted his head up from the horn, causing the loud blaring sound to disappear from the suddenly all-too-quiet street corner. He took in a deep breath, and wiped the ticklish liquid from above his eye. He looked at his hand, and found that it was bright red with blood.

He turned around to look at his environment, his gaze catching on Lindsay, next to him. Her arm was thrown off at a right angle, above her head, which caught his gaze first. She looked like she was resting the crook of her elbow on the top of her head, which made him almost laugh. Then his eyes traveled down her body, to the crinkled, crunched metal next to her body. He blinked, not quite comprehending the scene, nor the ringing in his head.

Why wasn't Lindsay awake? He reached out a hand to shake her from her sleep, but found that his hand was shaking. He willed it to stop, willed himself to steady.

"Linds," he murmured, and touched her shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered open. She blinked once, then cried out in pain. "Oh, God," she whimpered, the hand closest to Don tightening into a bloody fist. "Oh, God, my arm," she whimpered, and tried to move the arm slung over her head back down.

As the arm moved down, Lindsay let out a gasp, and the limb dropped into her lap quickly. Lindsay let out a loud scream of surprise as pain shot through her wrist.

"Don' move anything," Don muttered blearily. He tried to steady his thoughts. _Help, _he thought, _we need help. _He reached out a still-shaking hand to the radio in front of him and pulled the blocky radio from the dashboard. He put it to his mouth and took in a deep breath, his brain devoid of what to say. "This is … Detective Flack … I need an ambulance –" he gasped as a sharp pain stabbed at his lungs and he dropped the radio. He froze, pain in his ribs exploding.

When he could see again, he stared out the window in front of him, his vision smoky and hazy. "Monroe," he gasped, "How bad you hurt?"

"I don't know," she said weakly, "I can't … my legs … I can't move them."

"What else?" he asked.

"My arm – oh, God, my arm. And my chest hurts. The right side. How about you, are you OK?"

"I … I think so," he said, his breath evening. His vision was still smoky and hazy, though. "I musta banged my head up pretty good," he said, "Once on the side and once on the steering wheel, but I think I'm OK."

He blinked again, trying to clear the smokiness from his gaze. Suddenly, it became apparent to him that the smokiness was not something inside his head, but something very real, and all around them.

"We gotta get out," he grunted to Lindsay. "Can you open that door?" He opened his own door, shoving a foot onto the ground and waiting for her response.

Lindsay lifted a blood-dripping hand on the handle. She rested her head on the cracked window and pushed as hard as she could on the door. "It's too … too broken, Don, I can't." She let out a soft sob and turned to Don, blood streaming from a cut along her hairline. "Can Danny get out? Where's Danny? Oh, God, Don, where's Danny?"

"Danny ain't here," Don said, "Just calm down. I'll be over there in a sec, I just gotta get around to your door."

He heaved himself out of the car, stumbling around the front of it, and staring at the small fire on the side of the car, smoke streaming from the gaping crevice in the hood.

Lindsay's side was crunched metal. He could barely make out the outline of the door. He fumbled for the handle and foolishly attempted to pull the door open, his head not comprehending as to why he could not get in.

He blinked again and shook his head. _Get her out. Gotta get her out,_ he thought, and looked around the area. His eye caught on the hubcap sitting on the ground a little ways from him. He stumbled over to it, picked it up, and stumbled back to the car. He motioned briefly for Lindsay to move away from the window.

She took the hint, covering her eyes with her good arm and turning her face away from the window.

Don smashed the hubcap into the already-broken window a few times, knocking the glass onto Lindsay's seat, and her lap. He reached in, wrapped his arm around the door, his fingers on the mangled handle, and pulled.

With a scream from Lindsay, a grunt from Don, and the horrifying sound of crunching metal, the door creaked open. Don continued to pull, and eventually, in a rush of adrenaline, pulled the door clean off the car. He stumbled back onto his ass, the heavy door in his arms, staring at Lindsay, who was trying to breathe through the pain.

He heard the scream of sirens behind him, and the hiss of the fire. He stumbled over to Lindsay and squinted at her legs. They were caught in between her seat and the glove compartment, which had been shoved down onto her legs. He bent down, fingers fumbling, and found the seat adjuster. He moved her seat back with the electronic tool, barely hearing her anguished cries of pain, until her legs were free.

He bent into the car, wrapped an arm around her waist and slid another under her legs, and pulled her out of the car.

He started walking. His pace was stuttered and stumbling, but he did not stop. He continued walking, even as the car exploded into fiery, charred metal behind him, and heat roared past his body, and headed straight ahead.

The paramedics had to chase after him, pull him back, and convince him to rest Lindsay in the ambulance and crawl in after her.

* * *

"And what happened to the fucker that hit them?" Danny roared, his fists clenched around the edge of the counter.

"Danny, calm down, please," Stella said, glancing around the hospital waiting room, filled with patients of various sizes and shapes, all staring at the furious man in the leather jacket propped against the counter.

"No!" he shouted, his tone like a stubborn toddler's.

Sheldon looked up at Danny's explosive tone from his chair at the back of the room, Celia in his arms, wailing, her fingers opening and closing at the air around her.

Danny knew that was his sign, the one that meant that she needed her mother or her father. He turned abruptly on his heel, away from Stella, and walked over to Sheldon. He lifted Celia from his arms, and set her on his hip before walking back over to Stella.

Celia quieted immediately, leaning back against Danny's hand on her neck, and making a small contented "uh" sound as Danny cradled her head to his chest.

"Did you find him?" Danny asked again, his tone quieter now that Celia was in his arms.

"No," Stella sighed, "But Adam has surveillance tapes from the traffic light, and we have the make, model, and a partial plate, which should get us the driver."

"The driver? He didn't show up on the tapes?" Danny asked.

Stella shook her head. "He was obscured by a hat. But it does appear to be a male. And we know he banged his head on the steering wheel after he hit. He didn't appear to be severely injured, though – he was able to drive away a few seconds after hitting them."

"Fucker," Danny hissed.

"Detectives?" A nurse said, peeling slightly bloodied gloves from his hands, "You can talk to them now. Detective Flack is awake, and the CT scan revealed no permanent injuries. He has two cracked ribs and a concussion, but other than that, he will be fine."

"And Lindsay?" Danny snapped, fear building in his stomach.

"Detective Monroe sustained a dislocated wrist and several cuts and scrapes to her head. She also received a nasty cut to her arm from some broken glass, but we stitched it up. Her legs were crushed, but there doesn't seem to be anything more than severe bruising in that area."

"Where is she?" Danny asked quickly.

The nurse pointed him around a corner, and to a curtained bed at the end of the hall.

Danny gave a quick nod to Flack, who was sitting up in his bed and gingerly buttoning his shirt. Flack nodded back.

Danny whipped open the curtain to reveal a sleeping Lindsay.

"She was awake a minute ago," Flack grunted, finishing the last button on his shirt. He carefully rotated himself on the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"What the fuck happened?" Danny asked, hoisting Celia up further on his chest.

Flack shook his head slowly, wincing as pain shot through the bruise on the side of his head. "This car came out of nowhere. We were just heading to a scene –"

"A scene she wasn't supposed to be at," Danny said venomously.

Flack nodded and swallowed. "I got her hot chocolate," he stumbled, and took in a deep breath. He ran his hand through his hair. "Car came out of nowhere," he repeated.

"You got her out," Danny stated, "You got her out of the car before …"

Don nodded, and winced again.

"Thanks," Danny said quietly.

"Yeah," Don said tiredly, and rested his head on the pillows behind him. He glanced over at Lindsay.

Danny turned to Lindsay. He checked her over roughly, his eyes glancing over the splint on her right arm, the long cut on her hairline, and the bandage wrapped around her left forearm. She also had a few tiny cuts on her face, one under her right eye, another just below her mouth, and one in the center of her cheek.

"Ah-ba!" Celia shrieked, pointing an open hand at Lindsay.

"Shh," Danny whispered to her, pulling her to his chest to muffle her sounds. It was too late, though, and Lindsay's eyes fluttered open.

"Oh, hi," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Hi," Danny said, feeling his eyes tear up a little. "How do you feel?"

"OK," she said sleepily. "My wrist hurts less."

"Good, good," he said softly, and reached down a hand to run through her hair. She closed her eyes as his hand softly dragged through her hair. "Do you need anything? Water?"

"Yes, please," she rasped, and licked her lips. Danny looked around for a glass. He found a plastic cup on the little table beside her bed and poured some water from the pitcher into it.

"Can you sit up?" he asked gently.

"No," she said, opening her eyes again.

Danny turned around to Sheldon and Stella, who had appeared by Don's bed. "Doc? You mind holding her again?" he asked, jiggling Celia in his grasp.

Sheldon shook his head and walked over to Danny. He extracted the gurgling infant from Danny's arms and cuddled her to his chest with a smile at Lindsay. "Hey, Linds," he said.

She smiled weakly at him.

Danny knelt by her bedside and helped her up into a sitting position, one strong arm at her back, vertical and supporting her neck as she sat up with the use of her left arm. Danny held the plastic cup to her lips once she was upright and tipped it, allowing her to drink, until she pushed the cup away with her left arm.

"The nurse said that Lindsay could be checked out. Don has to stay for observation because of this concussion, though," Stella said, "I have the forms here, if you want them."

Danny glanced over at the blue clipboard under Stella's arm and held out his hand. "Can we get a wheelchair for Linds?" he asked.

Lindsay was too tired to argue.

* * *

"Why are we here?" Lindsay asked, waking from a dead sleep as Danny pulled the department car up to his building. He'd driven so slowly, and so carefully, that Lindsay had barely had time to register that she was in a car again.

"Mine's closer," Danny explained, "And I'm only on the fourth floor, I have a bigger shower, and you have a stoop. But if you really want to be at your place –"

"No, this is fine," Lindsay said sleepily.

Danny got out of the car and unhooked Celia's car seat from the back seat. He walked over to Lindsay's door. He opened it slowly. He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and smiled at her. "Can you walk, or do you want me to take you two up one at a time?"

"I can walk," she assured him, and un-clicked her seatbelt. She reached an arm out to him, which he draped around his shoulders, and wrapped one of his own arms around her waist as he slowly pulled her down from the car.

Supporting her on one side of his body, he pressed 'lock' on his keys and carefully helped her into his apartment.

* * *

Danny shook the bottle of vicodin with a grin and sat down on the side of the bed. "Want one?" he asked with a grin.

"What?" she asked, gritting her teeth from the pain in her wrist.

"Nurse prescribed you some for the pain. It's fine to use while breastfeeding, she said. So you want one? It'll make you sleep better."

"Yes," she said.

He reached over and grabbed the water bottle from his bedside table and helped her take the pill. He kissed her forehead and headed into Celia's room to check on her.

Celia was nearly asleep in her crib, her pacifier in her mouth, staring up at the ceiling. When she saw Danny peek over the edge of the crib, she let out a pleased cry and reached up for him.

Danny took her hand with a smile. "Hey, baby," he said, "Your mommy's kinda hurt, so you and I are gonna have to be real good until she gets better." He reached into the crib and gently brushed back some of her soft, curly brown hair from her forehead. Celia giggled loudly and kicked her feet up into the air, catching them in her hands.

"Good night, sweetheart," Danny said, and bent into the crib. He kissed Celia's head and pulled up the side of the crib. "Love you."

When Danny entered his bedroom, Lindsay was already asleep. He glanced at the bed, her cast, and the bruises he could see where her shirt was riding up. He wondered if she would be more comfortable if he slept on the couch.

"Danny?" Lindsay muttered from the bed, "Are you coming to bed?"

"Yeah," he said, and gingerly crept under the covers.

Lindsay turned on her side to face him and winced, but reached out for him.

Danny brushed her hair back behind her ear and kissed her forehead softly. "Just get comfortable, Montana. Don't move around too much."

She mumbled a sleepy agreement and lay on her back, locking her fingers with Danny's.

* * *

Danny received a call from Stella the next night, once he and Lindsay were back at Lindsay's apartment. The man in the Hummer had been arrested for the hit and run. He was claiming that he didn't remember what had occurred. Danny grimaced, fought the urge to go down to the precinct and beat the living crap out of the guy, and put down his phone.

He'd just told Lindsay when a sharp, insistent knocking had sounded at the door. Danny went to answer it, leaving Lindsay lying on the couch.

He swung open the door and found himself face to face with Betty Monroe, her husband Robert standing quietly behind her. Danny tilted his head to the side, eyes squinted. "Huh," he said quietly.

"What," Betty spat, "Are _you _doing here?"

"Hi, Mrs. Monroe," Danny said, "Mr. Monroe. How're you doin'?"

Betty shoved past him, calling out for Lindsay, leaving Danny and Robert Monroe staring at each other, neither speaking.

"I should probably hurt you," Robert said pensively.

"Yeah," Danny agreed, "You probably should. But I'd appreciate it if you didn't."

"I'll think about it," Robert said, and walked into the room. He headed to the couch, where Betty was kneeling by Lindsay, a cold hand on her daughter's cheek, eyes scrutinizing the scrapes and cuts on her face.

"They should heal well, it looks like," Betty said with a small, comforting smile to a stunned Lindsay, "No scarring, I should think."

Lindsay opened and closed her mouth like a fish, then looked up to Danny for some sort of explanation or support.

"Her arm'll take like three weeks to get better, and then maybe some PT," Danny said to Betty, "And there's some bruising and stuff that the doctor said might go away in a week, maybe a little more."

Betty nodded and squinted at the scrapes on Lindsay's face.

Robert looked from Danny to Lindsay. "Were there any other injuries?" he asked.

"My head got a little banged up," Lindsay said with a small smile.

"Well, there's nothing else to worry about. Your daddy and I are here, pumpkin," Betty said with a wide smile, "We'll take care of you until you get better."

Lindsay looked at her, horrified. "You …" she swallowed, struggling to sit up on her good elbow, "I'm fine, Mom, but thanks. I don't need help. I just need a day or two to get better –"

Betty heaved a sigh and shook her head slowly. "Always pushing away help, aren't you?" Danny raised his eyebrows and glanced at Betty. "We'll stay as long as we feel you need us. It'll be fun – you'll see. The four of us, all in one apartment together."

Danny frowned. He knew that Betty was no idiot, so that little math mistake was hardly by accident. By Betty's count, there was one extra person in that apartment, and he was pretty sure it wasn't Celia. "Uh, Mrs. Monroe," he said, clearing his throat, "I'm gonna need to stay with Lindsay. The guy that hit them was released on bail, and it's not safe for Lindsay to be without police protection."

Lindsay knew that was a blatant lie. Before her parents had arrived, Danny was just saying how the man in the Hummer was still sitting in holding. She looked up at Danny with a grateful smile. He winked at her as Betty and Robert looked at each other.

"Fine, then, I suppose you'll have to stay," Betty said with a sigh. "Now, Lindsay, do you still have that futon in the nursery? We'll just set that up for you, and your father and I will take the bed–"

"Lindsay's on the bed," Danny interrupted. Betty and Robert looked up at him, Betty in anger, Robert in surprise. Danny cleared his throat. "Uh, doctor's orders. She needs the bed. I can … uh, pull out the futon in Celia's room if you guys want. I'll sleep out here on the couch."

Betty blinked, the anger slipping back into her face, and turned back to Lindsay with a phony smile. "Well, then, sweetheart, looks like you'll be in the lap of luxury while we're here."

Lindsay winced. Danny noticed. "Lindsay, isn't it time for that doctor-sanctioned nap? You know how those sleeping pills he gave you work…" he hinted.

Lindsay gave him a huge smile. "Yes, Danny, it is time for my nap. Thanks so much for reminding me; I almost forgot."

Danny walked around to the other side of the couch, where Lindsay lay, and carefully skirted around Robert and Betty. He bent down, lifted Lindsay up carefully and walked her to her bedroom.

Once they were in the safety of her room, Lindsay hissed, "What are they doing here?"

"I mighta called 'em at the hospital," Danny said, placing Lindsay down on the bed and pulling the remote to the TV in her cabinet from the table beside her bed and dropping it onto her covers, next to her. "Look, just take a breather. You don't need to worry about this stuff. Just focus on getting better, and I'll deal with your parents."

"You're really going to deal with my parents?" Lindsay asked dubiously.

"Yeah," Danny said. He got up and opened up the cabinet containing the little television in Lindsay's room. "Now just relax, watch some TV, take a break. I'm gonna go make sure Celia's asleep."

Lindsay nodded and turned on the TV. She watched a documentary on the Civil War for nearly an hour before falling asleep. She woke up later that night, her arm throbbing and a low murmur of voices from the room next to hers. She struggled to a sitting position, and saw that the blankets had been pushed off of her legs, and her pants had ridden up to her knees. She glanced down at her legs and winced at the dark smudges of bruises all over her shins. She pushed herself off of the bed and limped her way to the door.

When she opened the door, she saw Danny holding a frozen bag of French fries to his eye, and her father sitting on the couch.

"Danny?" she asked sleepily, pulling herself out of the room.

"Linds, what're you doin' up?" Danny asked, the bag of frozen fries slipping down his face to reveal a very light pink shadow under his eye.

"What happened to your eye?" she asked.

Both Danny and Robert remained silent, watching her. Danny cleared his throat and put the frozen bag onto the coffee table. He walked over to the kitchen and snagged the little orange bottle of pills sitting on the counter. "Havin' trouble sleeping?" Danny asked. "Cause you're two hours overdue for another one if you want it."

Lindsay shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Dad, did you hit Danny?" Lindsay asked.

"Not that hard," Robert said sheepishly.

"Why would you hit Danny?" Lindsay asked incredulously, "What happened?"

"It wasn't… something recent, darlin'," Robert said. He stood up. "Well, I think I'll go help your mother unpack. Danny," he nodded by way of goodbye, and headed into the nursery.

"Celia's asleep," Danny cautioned, "So careful."

Robert nodded, went into the nursery, and closed the door quietly behind him.

Danny turned to Lindsay, who had made her way to the worn blue couch and carefully set herself down on it, wincing as her legs bent. Danny jogged over and helped her sit down before sitting down next to her. "How's the head?" he asked, touching the butterfly bandage on her forehead.

"Fine," she said, and rested her head on his shoulder, "I can't believe they came to see me…"

"I had to call them," he said, "they're your parents. They had to know."

"Why?" she groaned.

"Wouldn't you want to know if Celia got hurt? No matter what age she is, or how much she doesn't want to see you?"

"I won't be my mother," Lindsay said, her voice shaking with sincerity.

"I know," Danny soothed, and kissed her head before whispering in her ear, "You're nothing like her."

Lindsay smiled and attempted to cuddle into Danny's side, her body aching and protesting. He kept his fingers tender on her skin, never pressing down or letting the weight of his arm rest too heavily on her body.

"I'm glad you're OK," he said softly, and twirled his finger around a strand of her hair. "You freaked me out for a while there," he admitted, clearing his throat loudly.

Danny bent down and kissed her, running his lips over hers before opening his mouth and slipping his tongue in between her lips. Lindsay brought her good arm up to his shoulder and pulled him in closer to her.

"Ahem," Betty said from behind them. "We need to set up the futon."

Danny slowly broke the kiss, dropped another to Lindsay's head, and stood from the couch. He walked into Celia's bedroom and headed to the futon in the corner, taking care to not step on the large, open suitcase in the center of the room.

With a cautious glance at Celia, asleep in her crib, Danny bent down and tugged the cushions off the crib. He set them aside and pulled out the bed, setting it down on the floor carefully. He adjusted the covers and sheets that were already on the bed.

He hated to use the futon, as did Lindsay. The bed was beyond uncomfortable, and it was much more convenient and better in the long run to just sleep in the soft chair in the corner, by Celia's crib.

Betty sat on the edge of the crib and let out a small yelp as a spring poked her in the ass.

Danny held in a laugh, and grew serious and mildly annoyed at Betty as Celia cried out from her crib.

"You know what?" he said, "I'm gonna have her sleep out in the living room with me. I'll get her playpen in there."

"That would be wonderful," Betty said, testing the vicious bed gingerly.

Danny carefully set Celia against his chest and walked into the living room, where Lindsay was standing in front of the couch, trying to tuck the edges of a sheet into the cushion for Danny to sleep on.

"No, no, you don't gotta do that," Danny said, taking Lindsay's hand and pulling her away from the couch. "Just go to bed; I'll take care of this stuff."

"Why do you have Celia?" Lindsay asked as he gently led her into her bedroom.

"Your parents are gonna wake her up, I know it. I don't want her gettin' interrupted during the night, especially since she's just learning how to sleep through the night. I'll drag the playpen out into the living room."

"Leave her with me," Lindsay said with a smile, "The playpen is in here, anyways."

Danny glanced over at the mesh and plastic square crib between Lindsay's bed and the wall. "So it is," he said, "Are you sure she won't disturb you durin' the night? 'Cause I don't mind having her with me, really."

"It's warmer in here," Lindsay said. "Just set her down over there."

Danny did, putting Celia carefully in the playpen, where she tilted her head to the side, kicked a foot out, and closed her eyes. Danny chuckled at her before helping Lindsay into her bed.

"Hey, Linds?" he asked once she was lying on her back on the expansive bed.

"Hmm?" she asked, her big brown eyes fluttering open.

He got down on his knees next to the bed, leaving his head level with hers, and tilted her head towards his with a warm, large hand. He bent in towards her and kissed her softly. They remained that way for nearly ten minutes, no movement except for the gentle probing of their tongues.

Finally, Danny pulled away and pressed a second kiss to Lindsay's forehead. "I love you so much," he whispered to her.

"I love you, too," she said, bringing her hand up to her cheek, where his hand lay, and squeezing it tightly, "Can't you sleep in here with me?"

Danny chuckled. "I don't think either of your parents would like that very much."

"Please?" Lindsay begged.

"Lindsay …" he groaned.

"I need you," she said simply.

To that, he could say nothing. He merely walked to the other side of the bed, pulled back the covers, and slipped in behind Lindsay. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into his body. She closed her eyes, surrounded by his warm body and his soothing scent.

"Maybe if we got married, they'd let us sleep in the same bed," Danny whispered in Lindsay's ear.

"We're not getting married yet," Lindsay muttered, adjusting her body so her head was resting on his forearm, since he'd taken her pillow.

"I'm going to propose to you on Valentine's Day," he said, "Just thought you should know."

"And if I say no?" she asked, her voice mildly curious but also deeply tired.

"Then I'll ask you on St. Patrick's Day," he said.

"And if I say no then, too?"

"Then on your birthday…"

"Then?"

"Then I'll ask you on _my_ birthday…"

"Then?"

"I'll keep going as long as I need to," he assured her with a grin, and kissed her cheek.


	16. Chapter 16

**This is rated M. It's my little birthday present to myself :D**

* * *

"OH MY GOD," Betty Monroe said, standing in the doorway of Lindsay's bedroom. "I cannot BELIEVE you two SLEPT together after what Lindsay has been through!"

Danny was hardly a morning person. In fact, he was anything but. So when he heard that shrill, insistent noise, his only response was to grunt, and to tighten his arms around Lindsay's small, warm form. He buried his face in her soft hair, breathing in the scent of her orange and vanilla shampoo.

Lindsay, however, was more alert. She sat up instantly, forgetting her arm, and cried out in pain as she accidentally let her full weight fall on the wrist, still recovering from the dislocation.

That woke Danny up, and he shoved himself up into a sitting position, eyes half-lidded, and caught Lindsay as she fell backwards, seeing stars from the pain in her wrist.

"Linds? What's wrong?" Danny asked groggily, cradling her upper body in his arms.

"My arm," she said through gritted teeth, her eyes clenched shut.

"It's OK; I'll get the pills for you, baby," Danny said, reaching over her. He grabbed the little pill bottle from the table, twisted the cap off, and dumped one of the pills into his palm. He grabbed a water bottle and helped her swallow the pill.

Robert wandered in, looking around blearily for the cause of the scream he had heard.

Danny carefully rested Lindsay on the bed before sliding out from under the sheets. Betty glared at his naked chest, her gaze accusatory, and crossed her arms over her stomach as she watched Danny fuss with Lindsay's cast, setting it on a few pillows, and then turning to Celia to pick up the whimpering baby.

Robert turned around towards the kitchen, muttering something about breakfast.

"I can't believe you would do something like that," Betty said, wrinkling her nose, "Who has sex with a woman who is recovering from –"

"We didn't have sex!" Lindsay yelled through her clenched teeth.

"Don't cover for him, Lindsay," Betty said.

"I'm not!" Lindsay yelled.

Celia began to wail from her playpen, and Danny bent down and pulled her out of it, shushing her and patting her back. He carried her past Betty and into the kitchen, where he pulled a bottle out of the fridge and started to warm it up.

Betty followed, face red and furious. "I let you stay here because I thought it was necessary for Lindsay's safety. You've betrayed that trust!" Betty said.

Danny ignored her, for the most part. He was tempted to tell her that the only person who could tell him what to do was Lindsay, especially concerning who stayed in her apartment, but he kept his mouth shut. He was on thin ice with Lindsay's parents already.

"You have no respect for her injuries at all!" Betty shrieked.

Danny chose not to remind Betty that _she _was the one who wanted Lindsay to sleep on the futon.

"You took advantage of her because she knows she doesn't look pretty with all those bruises on her body and those … those cuts on her face – you took advantage of her insecurities by having –"

Danny laughed out loud. He sat Celia down on the counter, preventing her from falling forwards by pressing his torso to the counter edge, and from falling backwards with a hand to her back, leaving one free hand to warm up the bottle. "A couple of cuts on her face and she's ugly?" Danny chuckled.

"I didn't say she was ugly," Betty explained, her voice dropping in volume by a fraction. "Is that what you think? That she's ugly?"

Danny laughed again and tested the warmed bottle on his wrist. He lifted Celia up into the crook of one arm and held the bottle to her lips. She reached up her hands and pressed them to the sides of the bottle – not enough strength to lift it on her own, but she was getting close. "Of course not," Danny replied to Betty, who was tapping her foot impatiently on the floor.

"I can't believe you could be so … so cruel to her. After everything you've done."

Danny sighed. He walked past Betty again towards Lindsay's room. He shut the door behind him once he got inside and headed to her bed, Celia still drinking in his arms. "Feeling any better?" he asked Lindsay.

She nodded tiredly. "She was really yelling at you," she said quietly.

"You heard alla that?" Danny asked.

She nodded.

Careful of Celia, Danny bent down slowly next to the bed and kissed the small cut under her right eye, then the one just below her mouth, and the other in the center of her cheek. "You look beautiful," he said, "I've never thought anything else."

"Even when I was nine months pregnant and couldn't get up off of a couch without a crane?" she giggled.

"Especially then," he said with a grin, and kissed her lips. "You don't know how many times I wanted to grab you off a couch and rip off all your clothes and –"

"Shh!" she laughed, "They'll hear."

"So?" he asked, nuzzling her ear.

She smiled over at him serenely, and reached out and smoothed down Celia's soft brown curls. "Did you really think I was beautiful then?" she asked.

Danny nodded. "You have no idea," he whispered, watching her hand move over Celia's hair in a gentle, feathery touch. "I missed so much," he murmured.

"There are other chances," Lindsay said with a small smile, "In the future."

"More kids, you mean?" Danny asked, standing from the crouching position, which was beginning to take a toll on his calves. He sat gently on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want more?" Lindsay asked, following his movements with her eyes.

"Truckloads," Danny grinned.

Lindsay laughed and rubbed his thigh, the only part of him her bandages allowed her to touch. "So we'll have more. Someday."

"We can catch up on all that missed out pregnancy sex."

"What's pregnancy sex?" Lindsay asked, laughter bubbling out from her bruised stomach. "Before, or during pregnancy?"

Danny shrugged. "Looks like we're gonna have to figure that out," he said with a wicked smile.

* * *

Lindsay's parents, on Lindsay's advice, went to the Guggenheim for an exhibit for three hours later that day. Danny wrapped Celia up in her snowsuit, made sure Lindsay had about seven layers of clothing, and took them both out to the park. He sat Lindsay down on a bench with a cup of Chai tea and took Celia to the swing set. He sat on one of the swings, both his arms around Celia, and gently used his legs to rock back and forth.

Celia laughed so loud that she scared away a timid pigeon at the corner of the playground.

"Careful of her head!" Lindsay shouted from the bench, taking a sip of her tea. She had one foot on the stroller to keep it from rolling down the slight incline of the path.

"I _am_," Danny replied, holding Celia even closer to his body. She was facing out from his chest, towards Lindsay. He had one arm around her chest, and another on her legs.

"Are you sure?" Lindsay asked, hiding her smile behind another sip of her drink.

"Yes!" Danny yelled.

Celia giggled on his lap, flapping her puffy arms and attempting to bounce up and down in Danny's lap.

They walked back to Lindsay's apartment hand in hand, Lindsay wincing occasionally as she felt a twinge in one of her bruises. Danny offered to give her a piggyback several times, but she refused – she loved walking beside him, her hand in his.

They burst into the apartment, the light already fading from the day, and found Lindsay's parents sitting quietly, reading on the couch.

"Nice of you to join us," Lindsay's mother said with a slight edge to her tone.

"We took Celia to the park," Lindsay explained, the pinkness fading from her cheeks.

Danny pulled Celia out of the stroller and handed her to Lindsay, who took the gurgling baby to the bedroom to breastfeed. Danny folded up the jogging stroller and stored it in the closet by Lindsay's door. He headed into Lindsay's bedroom with a quick smile and a nod at Lindsay's parents.

"I'll start dinner in a second," he said, and shut the door behind him.

* * *

That night, Danny lay on the couch, trying to arrange his rather long body on the short, worn couch. He'd spent too many nights on it, and he wondered why he still couldn't find a comfortable position. He wished that Lindsay's parents hadn't made such a big deal of making sure he wasn't in Lindsay's room before he went to bed. Their constant trips to the bathroom were always accompanied by a cautious glance to the couch to make sure that Danny was still sleeping there.

He glanced over at the clock - it was almost two in the morning.

He and Lindsay had originally planned to sleep together anyways, after her parents went to bed, but now it was much too late.

At the whispery sound of a movement on the carpet, Danny sat up on the couch and looked behind him to find Lindsay in a plain gray t-shirt that hugged her curves and stopped just under her belly button, and pink panties. And nothing else. If he'd known that that was all she was wearing to bed, his good-night kiss would have been a lot longer. He stared at the strip of creamy, soft skin between the waistline of her panties and the hem of her shirt.

"Whatcha doin', Linds?" Danny asked as Lindsay climbed on top of him and pulled off her top. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her full, creamy breasts, but something in him was protesting. "This ain't your room."

"I know," she whispered, "But I need a little bit of help with something," she whispered.

Danny gave a nervous glance out the room to the nursery, where Lindsay's mother and father were sleeping peacefully. He turned to Lindsay, his eye catching on her temporary cast. He winced as he saw the bruises on her torso. He reached up with his hand and trailed his fingers over them softly before sitting up onto his elbows and pressing the softest, gentlest kiss he could muster to her flesh.

She shivered and leaned into his lips.

"We can't do this here," he whispered to her body. A little too close, as each move of his mouth was felt on her skin, especially the damp flick of his tongue on the 'this.'

"What do you mean, this?" she gasped as she felt his hot tongue slip on her skin. She had to have him say it again. She had to feel it again.

"We can't do each other here," he chuckled to her skin again.

She sucked in a deep breath on the 'other,' and a heavy ticklish feeling dropped to the place between her legs. She felt her pink cotton panties, her only garment, dampen.

Danny looked up at her, biting his lip. "Your parents will hear. You're loud."

"I can be quiet," she said pleadingly.

Danny sat up all the way, trying to keep his hands off of her, and brought his lips to her ear. "Not with what _I'm_ going to do to you," he hissed, and bit the edge of her ear, at the middle of the curve.

She shivered. "Where?" she asked.

Danny picked up her shirt and helped her into it. "Not here."

"Celia?" Lindsay asked with a whisper.

"Your parents will get her if she needs them. You got pants?"

"Why do I need them?" she asked with a sly smile, and ground herself slowly into his hips. She knew he didn't wear any boxers to bed if he was wearing sweats, and the soft, nubbly friction inside of those sweats rubbed on his aching erection. He sucked in a breath.

"Let's go."

Lindsay shivered in anticipation. "Where?" she asked.

"As far as we can get," he said with a smirk. They both knew it wouldn't be long, judging by what they both were feeling.

Danny pulled her ass close to his body, rotated his body around so his legs swung off the edge of the worn couch, and stood up, Lindsay locked tightly around his waist. "Now be quiet," he hissed, "They'll hear us." He grabbed his set of keys from the coffee table and shoved them in his pocket.

He started walking to the door when Lindsay giggled loudly, the anticipation and anxiety at the thought of being caught catching up with her. Danny looked at her for a moment before removing one hand from her ass, where he was holding her up, and covered her mouth.

Her pupils dilated at the feel of his rough, warm hand on her lips and cheeks. Her hands tightened around his neck, and she slowly rubbed her hips on his chest, where her center was pressed against him. She was dying for some kind of release, and she had no idea where Danny planned to take her. Or how.

He removed his other hand from her bottom, forcing her to hold onto him with only her leg muscles and the one good arm, and unlocked all three locks on the door. He slowly pulled it open, taking care that it didn't creak, and walked out into the hallway. He pulled the door shut behind him.

He calmly walked to the other side of the hallway, directly across from the door, and slowly removed his hand from Lindsay's mouth. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny bent in and pressed his mouth hard against Lindsay's mouth, his tongue slipping between her soft lips and finding hers. He pressed his hands against the wall on either side of her head and rubbed himself hard against her body.

He drew back as quickly as he'd started, and gave a smirk as she whimpered, leaning forwards for more.

"This is too close. We have to go farther away, or they'll hear us," he explained, grinning wickedly as she groaned in frustration.

He made it to the eight floor, two beneath hers, before he stood her on the floor and sank to his knees in front of her.

She glanced down at him, her face blank, unsure of what he was going to do. He reached up to her panties, pushed them aside, and slowly inserted one finger into the velvet wetness that he found there.

Lindsay took in a deep breath and bit down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. They were in the stairwell, but she knew that the doors were fairly thin. As Danny slowly moved his finger in and out of her, then added a second finger, she saw stars.

"Don't make any noise," Danny said with a devilish smile. Lindsay whimpered quietly, her hips moving involuntarily against his fingers.

When his lips slowly moved to her clit and sucked gently, she came apart, gasping and sliding down the length of the wall, dizzy.

Danny swept her up again, this time bridal style, and continued walking down the steps as if nothing had happened.

When Lindsay regained consciousness, somewhere between the fifth and fourth floors, she tugged on his shirt. "Let me down," she whispered in his ear.

"Why? We're still in the building."

"Do it," she hissed, and sucked on his earlobe encouragingly. His arms weakened at the feel of her tongue, and he gently let her to the floor for fear that he drop her otherwise.

She backed him up against the wall of the staircase, the railing jabbing into his back, and, with her eyes locked on his, reached a hand into his sweats and wrapped her hand around him. He blinked, and reached up a hand to her hair. He rested the other on her lower back, his fingers digging into her skin each time she squeezed a little harder or ran her thumb over his sensitive tip.

He stopped her once he felt release threatening, and pulled her hand out of his pants. "Not yet," he groaned. He lifted her up and nearly dropped her when he caught her licking the pre-come off of her thumb.

He steadied himself, hoisted her higher, and continued walking down the steps. They arrived at the lobby without any distractions, and Danny carefully pushed the door open with his back, letting it smack behind him. He walked out to his car and set Lindsay on the ground. With the intense anticipation each was feeling, they barely noticed the cold, biting snow on the ground, under their bare feet. Danny pulled out the keys and unlocked the car before opening the passenger door for Lindsay.

She shook her head.

"What?" he asked, glancing into the car, "You know you can't drive with that arm."

"I want to be in the backseat," she said with a sly grin.

Danny's eyes widened. He slammed the door shut and opened the back door, helping Lindsay in before crawling in himself.

They sat for a moment on the backseat, both shivering slightly in anticipation.

Danny leaned forwards to the front seat, bending over the compartment between the two front seats, and jammed the key in. He turned the car on and set the heat on high to warm the leather seats, and directed the vents towards the backseat before sitting back down on the seat.

The second his ass hit the seat, Lindsay was on top of him, her good arm wrapped around his neck, her leg sliding over him to straddle his lap.

He removed her shirt and chucked it behind him as she continued to kiss him as though her life depended on it. He wrapped his arms around her back and maneuvered her so that she was lying on the seat. Both of his bent knees could not fit on either side of her body, so the one on her left side remained bent between her body and the seat back, and his other foot was pressed against the floor of the car. He tugged Lindsay's panties down her bent legs and threw them behind him.

Lindsay helped him get his sweatpants off, and the moment they left his legs, he tugged a condom out of the pocket, ripped it open, and slid it on. He plunged into Lindsay quickly, causing her to let out a soft cry of shock and a whimper of relief at the same time.

After a few awkward thrusts due to their positioning, Danny found that if he bent the leg on the floor and set it back behind him, he had wonderful leverage. Once he found his rhythm, Lindsay gave a loud groan, whimpered his name, and pulled his head to hers to kiss him.

The windows quickly fogged up, a reaction to the steamy heat in the car and the freezing cold outside. Danny pressed an open hand to the window, and between that and his leg, he was able to have complete control over the thrusts.

Lindsay, however, could barely move. The near-painful pleasure in her lower stomach was almost paralyzing, and she felt almost as if any fraction of movement would ruin it. She had one foot pressed up against the steamy glass of the window behind Danny's back, and another foot hooked into the pocket at the back of passenger's seat.

"Oh, God, Danny," she cried. He bent down and sucked on her left nipple with a smirk on his face. That, and the fact that one hand had traveled down to her clit, caused Lindsay to climax with a shuddering gasp. Danny followed soon after.

Their heavy breathing was the only sound in the car, until their ears perked up to a soft, cackling voice in the car with them. Danny looked around, confused and nervous, until his eye caught on the glowing radio at the front of the car. "Oh," he chuckled breathily.

"Someone here?" Lindsay panted.

"Radio's on."

Danny bent down to her again and kissed her before sliding out of her and pulling off and knotting the condom.

"Sorry," Lindsay said, looking at the condom.

"What?" Danny asked, severely confused, and sat back down on the seat. "Did you just apologize for having sex?" he snorted disbelievingly.

She shook her head and waited until she could catch her breath. "I … I'm not on birth control yet."

"So?" Danny panted, grabbing his sweats from the floor and pulling them on. "I don't expect you to be." He found her panties on the floor and handed them to her.

"I know," she breathed, taking the panties and sliding them on, "But still."

"Still nothin'. It's fine. If you do get on it, just let me know." He bent over and kissed her softly before helping her get her shirt on.

"I miss you. The feel of it when we don't have a condom," she said, sliding closer to him, her sticky, sweaty skin catching on the leather seat. She hugged his naked chest and felt his arm come around her body.

"Me, too," he admitted, "But it really doesn't matter to me. Wasn't that fine _with _a condom?" he asked, grinning and gesturing vaguely to the seat.

Lindsay laughed and squeezed him tightly. "That was more than fine."

"So you ready to go back up to the apartment?" Danny asked.

Lindsay looked up at the dark apartment building nervously. "I don't want to go to sleep without you," she said.

"So we'll sleep in the same bed, how's that?" Danny suggested, pulling the keys out of the car and pulling Lindsay onto his lap, facing him. "So what if they find us again. What are they gonna do?"

Lindsay smiled. "True," she said, wrapping her legs around him again.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded.

He opened the door, inviting in the cold air that they had barely noticed when they'd come into the car in the first place, too wrapped up in each other.

Lindsay shivered and held tighter to Danny's neck. He shut the door behind him, clicked the lock on the keys, and carried her up to her apartment. They grew cautiously quiet as they got to Lindsay's floor – Lindsay because she grew tired and was close to sleep in Danny's arms, Danny because he didn't want to get smacked around by Lindsay's father again. He carried her into her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed before slowly pulling back the covers. He slipped under them, still wearing Lindsay around his chest like a front backpack, and lay down on the cool sheets.

* * *

"What on earth happened to this car?" Betty Monroe asked as they drove to the airport. Danny was up front, driving, with Robert next to him. He turned around once he was stopped at a red light, and his eyes widened as he saw a neat, perfect imprint of Lindsay's little foot on the glass of Betty's window, practically down to the ridge detail on her toes. He turned his head to Lindsay, sitting directly behind him, and blinked.

"This car, uh …" Danny started.

"Well, it's used to transport suspects," Lindsay stammered.

"They get a little rowdy – that's from this guy we picked up from, ah…"

"From a nudist colony," Lindsay finished.

Betty looked uncomfortable on her seat, lifting her hands off of the leather and scooting forwards on her seat. The light turned green, and Danny turned back to the windshield and stepped on the gas. He could see Lindsay's face in the review mirror, and behind the heavy blush, she had a tiny smile on her face as she looked at the frosted imprint of Danny's hand, right next to her cheek.

She kicked the back of his seat discreetly, and he grinned.

* * *

"Goodbye, my darling," Betty said to Celia, holding the baby's chubby face in her two cold, tissue-paper hands.

Celia whimpered, and Danny bounced her a little bit on his hip to comfort her. She turned her head up to look at him, her fist closing around his tight green shirt.

Betty removed her hand from the little girl's face and turned to Lindsay. She kissed her daughter's cheek and hugged her lightly.

Robert did the same, and tickled Celia's cheek. The baby squealed and smiled brightly, her cheek dimpling. Danny grinned down at her.

Betty waited for her husband, tickets in her hand, crossing her arms over her chest.

Robert squinted at Danny for a moment, then held out his hand. Danny took it, grateful for the gesture. "Ice that eye, now," Robert said with a quiet smile.

Danny chuckled.

Lindsay gave a quick wave to them and wrapped her arm around Danny's waist as they headed, squabbling already, to the security checkpoint. Danny rested his hand on the back of Lindsay's neck, rubbing the area between his thumb and index finger. She hummed appreciatively and rested her head on his shoulder. How could his body be so warm in contrast to the cool air inside the airport? She snuggled into his body and watched her mother hand the tickets to the security guard. Her father turned towards her, and half-grinned, winking at her. Lindsay and Danny stayed standing where they were until Betty and Robert disappeared into the hallway that headed towards the gates.

"They're gone," she murmured happily.

Danny dropped a kiss to her head. "Yep," he said.

She took in a deep breath, straightened, and turned to him. "Let's move in together," she said.

Danny's smile was so big he would swear his lip split.


	17. Chapter 17

"So, Valentine's Day is tomorrow," Danny said, dropping his kit at the scene and pulling his camera strap from around his neck.

"Uh-huh," Lindsay said, snapping a photo of the man floating in the fountain in front of her. She was crouched in front of the stone edge of the fountain, her kit to her side.

"So I'm going to propose to you, you remember?" Danny said, "And I was wondering if you wanted me to do it at the end of the dinner, or when I drop you off at your place."

"You're going to drop me off? What if you come inside?" Lindsay asked, grinning. She looked up from the floater in the fountain.

"What, you think I'm that easy? This is our fourth date; I'm don't sleep with a girl until after the tenth," he said, craning his neck to look at the bizarre gray film floating in the top tier of the four-layered fountain.

"What were we doing last night, then?" Lindsay asked, opening her kit and pulling out her tweezers to get a piece of what looked like lettuce floating next to the corpse's head.

"Practicing for our tenth date," Danny shrugged.

"And you're willing to propose on the fourth date? Isn't that a little soon?" Lindsay asked, plucking the piece of lettuce out of the water and slipping it into a clear plastic evidence bag.

"Not when you're sure she's the _one_," Danny said, and snapped on a rubber glove. He took a small plastic evidence cup from his kit and scooped up some of the scummy film on the top layer of the fountain.

"You have some weird rules there, cowboy," Lindsay said. She put the evidence into her kit and picked up her camera again. She started taking pictures of the stone edge, making sure she measured the assorted scuff marks on the bottom.

"So you didn't answer my question. After dinner, or when I drop you off? Now since I know you're not really ready yet, it might get awkward if I ask you at dinner, 'cause then we'll have to spend the car ride knowing that you made a fool out of both of us –"

"That _I _made a fool out of _us?_" Lindsay laughed, "You're the one who's going to ask me to marry you even though I've told you I'm going to say no."

"You might change your mind," Danny said.

"No, I won't. Not yet. I'll know."

"Anything in particular you're waiting for?"

"Just a feeling," she said. She squinted at a bit of shimmery trace on the stone edge, photographed it, and swabbed it.

"What feeling?"

"I don't know yet," she said, letting out a little laugh. She started to put her things away and stood up. She fidgeted with her Velcro splint, trying to itch a section that the splint covered up. "I can't wait to get this stupid thing off when I get home."

"You want to take it off right now, take a break from it? I'll help you put it back on."

"Thanks, but I should leave it on," she said with a sigh. I'd have to practically take off my shirt anyways."

"I could deal with that," Danny said with a shrug. He nodded as Sid walked up to the scene with an assistant and moved his things out of the way so Sid could investigate the body. "You sure you don't want my help?" he asked, "It'll help that itch."

Sid raised his eyes to the two CSIs standing in front of him. "Am I … interrupting something?" he asked curiously.

Lindsay held out her arm and tugged back the very end of her sleeve to reveal the temporary cast on her arm. "It's itchy," she said with a sigh.

"I once had a cast on my leg. During one particularly sweaty night, I could barely move. My wife had to take a spatula and –"

"Woah," Danny said, raising both his hands in a surrendering gesture. "Sid. Don't wanna know."

Sid shrugged. "Horrendous night. How have you been doing since the accident, Lindsay?" he asked, poking the skin of the man in the fountain before nodding to the assistant, indicating that the body could be lifted out of the water.

"I'm almost one hundred percent," Lindsay said with a smile, "Thanks for asking."

Sid and the assistant lifted the body, Danny moving around to the side to help keep the arms from being smashed by the weight of the body. They set the body down on a tarp and Sid reached for his liver thermometer.

"I'm glad you're doing better. If you need me to look at that wrist with the X-Ray machine, see how it's doing, then just let me know," Sid said with a smile before jabbing the liver thermometer into the body.

"Aw, thank you, Sid," Lindsay said with a smile. She looked up at Danny. "This itch is really killing me, though. Do you mind helping me get this off?" she asked him.

He nodded. "We'll be right back, Sid," he said, and walked with her to the car. He explained to the officer on the scene what they were doing, and headed to the silver SUV parked by the building. He opened the passenger door for Lindsay and held out a hand for her to get in.

She sat down and pulled off her gray jacket. She started to roll up the sleeve of the shirt she was wearing, but found that it caught on the Velcro splint. She tugged, but it would not move over her splint. Danny pulled it back down and helped her take off the shirt completely, since the windows were tinted and his back was to a wall. He ripped open the Velcro and gently peeled the cast from her arm.

Lindsay gave a deep, full sigh of relief and itched a spot of skin on her forearm, smiling contentedly. She rested the hand in her lap for a moment, letting it breathe.

Danny watched her, the pale light of the sun through the clouds glinting on her face and the tops of her breasts as she sat, in her simple black bra and her jeans. He laughed a little bit and leaned back against the wall behind him. "You know what you're remindin' me of right now?"

"Who?" she asked, not opening her eyes.

"Not who, what."

"Fine, what?" she laughed.

"The first time I saw you naked."

Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced down at herself. "Why?"

"That's what you were wearing when I put you up on the pool table," he chuckled, "That first night. Before the hostage thing."

Lindsay shivered and grabbed her soft red shirt from the dashboard. "I don't want to think about that," she said, "That was terrifying."

Danny took her hurt wrist in his hand and slipped her thumb through the proper hole, then fastened the Velcro around her forearm. "Why? You weren't even there." _Thank God,_ he thought.

"It still scared me," she said as he finished putting on her cast.

"Too tight?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Flack and I thought you weren't going to make it," she said, watching his hands on her arm.

"I did make it," he said, and helped her pull her shirt over her head and over the cast. He adjusted the sleeve over her cast while she stuck her other arm through the hole and pulled the stretchy shirt over her stomach.

"I – Still, I don't want to talk about it. It still scares me sometimes."

Danny bent in and kissed her before wrapping his arms around her into a hug and rested his chin on her head. "I'm here, you know," he said, and squeezed her warmly.

"I know," Lindsay said, taking in a deep breath. She pulled back and stood up, and shrugged on her coat. "Danny?"

"Huh."

"I'm really going to say no. Tonight, when you ask."

"I know," he said, put his hand on her back as they walked out from behind the car, to where Sid and his assistant were pushing the gurney with the body on it into the ME's van. Sid gave a wave and crawled into the front seat while his assistant shut the back doors of the van.

Danny and Lindsay pulled long, rubber boots from the silver department SUV and tugged them on. They clomped to the large fountain and stepped inside of the basin, the water rippling at their intrusion.

Lindsay spotted a piece of blue, jagged plastic and sloshed her way over to it. When she was nearly there, her rubber boot gave way to a splotch of pale moss on the bottom of the fountain, and her leg slipped out from under her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting to hit the cold, slimy, water, already shivering at the fact that a dead man had been rotting in it overnight. As light droplets of water landed on her thighs from the splash, she suddenly realized that she was not propelling downwards anymore; rather, she was being held above the water by two firm hands under her arms.

"You gonna open your eyes, or what?" Danny asked. He pulled her to her feet and set her down before bending down himself and plucking the piece of plastic from the water. He squinted at it for a moment before splashing over to their kits and snagging an evidence bag for it. He bagged it and taped the bag shut, shoving it into his kit.

"Careful – hey, you wanna take the perimeter? We don't both have to work the fountain."

"No, you take it, I can take the fountain," Lindsay said, and inspected a scuffmark on the second tier of the fountain. "So where are we going to eat tomorrow?"

"Focus on the case," Danny said with a wink, and stepped out of the fountain. He slipped out of his boots and pulled on his converse. "Don't fall," he cautioned with a smirk.

"I won't!" she yelled to him. He'd catch her, though – she was sure of that now.

* * *

"Oh, you're just the cutest, oochiest little baby pie!" the woman said, bending to her knees in front of Linsday, who had Celia in the baby swing on her chest. "Yes you are! With your poochable cheeksies and your itty, bitty hands! Oh, you're such a good little girlie-poo! Yes you are, baby-pie!"

Lindsay was experiencing severe discomfort at the fact that her daughter was being called a 'baby pie.' The mental image that the juxtaposition of the words served her was less than pleasing. It took all of her restraint to stand still while her daughter was verbally assaulted with a whole new stream of incomprehensible baby talk. Sure, Lindsay was guilty of baby talk now and then (and she'd caught Danny doing his fair share of it as well) but this woman was just ridiculous.

"What's your name, little muffin?" the woman finally asked, running a hand through her tight, bunched curls and standing up to look down at Celia.

"Her name is Celia," Lindsay said, resting a hand on the baby's bottom and patting it gently.

"Why, what a beautiful name," the woman said. "You take care now, little Celia." She smiled brightly at Lindsay, whom she'd been ignoring for the past fifteen minutes, and walked on her way, toting her tiny "I love NY" bag along behind her.

Lindsay shook her head in disbelief and headed into the crime lab a few blocks ahead of her. She showed her ID to the security guard and headed up to the thirty-fifth floor.

The shared office was empty, so she placed Celia on the floor by the couch, walled her in with pillows and cushions, and sat down in her chair, facing the baby. Julia, Danny's mother, had called Lindsay, her voice muffled and hoarse, and had informed her that she was sick with the flu. Lindsay had seen evidence of that as Julia, with a hand over her mouth so as not to spread the virus, had pointed Lindsay in the direction of Celia, who had been happily trying to pull herself into a crawl in the playpen. After making sure Julia had a steaming bowl of soup and a comfortable supply of the correct pills, Lindsay had taken Celia and headed back over to the crime lab.

She started doing some casework, looking up at Celia every few minutes to make sure she was still playing with her large, plush toy, and not making a run for the door.

When Celia started to whimper, Lindsay put down her things and got up. She'd breastfed Celia only an hour earlier, in the bathroom at a coffee shop. She got nervous about breastfeeding in public – she was a shy person, and wasn't about to do something that she felt was so intimate in front of a large crowd. However, that meant that she had to perch herself on a toilet seat lid in a bathroom and balance everything so that it wouldn't touch the floor.

"What's wrong, Celia?" Lindsay asked, walking over to the baby.

Celia cried out and slapped her palms on the floor.

Lindsay walked over to her, and found that Celia was bleeding from a tiny cut on her hand. "Now where did that come from?" Lindsay asked, picking Celia up from the floor. Once she did so, she saw the culprit – a nearly invisible sliver of glass in Celia's hand.

Lindsay held the baby's hand steady. She headed out of the room, Celia in her arms, and ran smack into Hawkes, who was walking down the hallway with Danny.

"Danny - Sheldon – I need some help –" she said.

"What happened?" Danny asked, his face immediately serious and concerned, as he glanced down at Celia in Lindsay's arms. The baby had forgotten about the tiny, pinching pain on her palm, and was trying to tug her hand out of Lindsay's grasp.

"Do either of you have tweezers?" Lindsay asked, "There's glass in her hand."

"What?" Danny nearly yelled. He bent in towards the tiny hand, clasped between Lindsay's fingers, and squinted at it. The miniscule drop of blood that dripped from it sent off an alarm in his head. "How – what –"

"I wasn't thinking – I put her on the floor, and there must've been glass down there –"

Meanwhile, Sheldon calmly walked into Lindsay and Danny's office, unbeknownst to the two concerned parents, opened Lindsay's kit, pulled out her tweezers and some rubbing alcohol, and sterilized the instrument. He also pulled out her first aid kit and tucked it into his pocket.

He walked back over to Celia, bent over her hand, and plucked the tiny sliver of glass from Celia's hand.

Celia gave a tiny, confused grunt, and looked up at Sheldon with her tiny pink lips open in a circle, and her little eyebrows knitted together.

"What the hell, man, did you hurt her?" Danny asked, furious.

"I took out the glass," Sheldon said, rolling his eyes and holding up the tweezers. Glinting in the light was a slightly red-stained object, barely visible.

"Well she needs a band-aid or something – and some Neosporin."

Sheldon pulled out the first aid kit from his pocket and snapped it open. He smiled at Celia, took out a band-aid and a little packet of Neosporin, and bandaged up her little cut.

"There," he said, "Better. It should heal fine."

"Should?" Danny all but shouted.

"It will. It's just a cut, Danny. Relax," Sheldon said with a smile, and walked away from them, towards the trace lab.

Danny turned back to Lindsay, taking in a deep breath. He watched as Lindsay smiled at Celia, tugged up her hand, and kissed it. "All better!" she said with a smile to the baby.

He reached out and tucked a piece of Celia's hair behind her ear. "Why is she here? Can't my mom take her?"

"Your mom has the flu – a pretty bad case, too. I made her some soup, and she promised she'd call a doctor," Lindsay said, jiggling Celia and lightly tickling the baby's stomach.

"Is she OK?" Danny asked, "I'll run over and check on her after work."

"Oh, good idea," Lindsay nodded, "I'll get some tea at Coffee Bean for you to take over."

"Kay," Danny said, and followed her into their office. He glanced over at the small pile of pillows up against the couch. "Is that where the glass was?" he asked.

Lindsay nodded.

"I'll check and see if there's any more, but I want to hold her – I don't want her on the floor until we check it more carefully."

Lindsay nodded, hiding her smile at his meticulous care of his daughter. Sometimes he stunned her with his worries – how could he think so much about such little things? There were times when he would fiddle for hours with the heating, trying to get the perfect temperature for her room, and when he would try over and over again to get her bottle warmed up perfectly, swirling it much more than necessary to make sure there were no cold or hot parts that would burn her. Once she caught him smoothing his hand over her crib mattress, looking for lumps in the bedding that would upset her while she slept.

They went over the case, Lindsay leaning back in her chair while Danny laid on the couch with Celia splayed on his chest, her tiny hands digging into his skin, her knees on his belly.

She fell asleep soon after Lindsay breastfed her nearly an hour later.

Danny and Lindsay kissed goodbye at the door of their office, Danny with Lindsay's Coffee Bean gift card clasped in his hand, his arms around her, her chest pressed up against his.

Lindsay hated waving goodbye, when she loaded Celia into car seat in the department SUV and watched Danny head into the subway.

* * *

He knocked on the door, for the first time in a while.

"In a minute!" Stella yelled, "Almost done!"

"You're done!" Lindsay cried, attempting to pull away from Stella's grip. Stella's French manicured nails gripped to Lindsay's bare arm, pulling her back to the seat in front of the bathroom mirror.

"Stay. For God's sake, Lindsay, let me finish your left eye. You want them to be even, don't you?" Stella asked irritably. There was nothing more impossible, she realized, than making Lindsay sit still.

Stella carefully applied a layer of soft white eye-shadow to Lindsay's eye, painting in the almond shaped curve of her eyelid. She pulled out the mascara, expertly swept up Lindsay's eyelashes, and stepped back, squinting at her creation. "Done," she said at last, "Now go and get him."

Lindsay stood and grabbed Stella into a hug.

"You'll mess up the dress!" Stella laughed, smoothing the red satin material down.

"Thank you so much," Lindsay said, pulling back.

"Don't you dare cry," Stella said firmly, pointing a finger at Lindsay, "I worked way too hard on those eyes for that. Now go – you have a date."

"Thank you for babysitting," Lindsay said, pulling on her strappy, black high heels.

"What else would I do?" Stella said with a roll of her eyes, "Chase is busy, and –"

"Oh, the lover," Lindsay said with an exaggerated flick of her tongue on the 'l.'

"Oh, shush," Stella said, waving Lindsay off.

"What? I'm allowed to make fun of you for it." The two women walked into the living room and kitchen area and headed to the door. Lindsay frowned at Stella, "You date a gorgeous, Australian lawyer and you don't tell me for two months? I can call him whatever I want if that's the way you're going to act."

Lindsay opened the door to find Danny on the opposite wall, glancing down at his phone, one leg propped out in front of him. He was wearing a starched white oxford shirt, black dress pants, and had his leather jacket thrown over his arm.

He looked up and froze, his eyes the only moving part of his body. He looked her up and down twice, landing finally on her eyes. "You look amazing," he said breathlessly.

Lindsay blushed a deep red to match her dress and her lips. "Thanks," she smiled, and walked over to him.

He comfortably wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her sweetly before looking up at Stella. "Hey, Stel," he grinned.

"You realize that you're ten minutes early?" Stella asked, crossing her arms.

Danny shrugged. "I wanted to check in on Celia first."

"She's in the bedroom, sleeping," Lindsay said, taking his hand and pulling him along behind her to the nursery.

Danny walked over to the crib and leaned over it, grinning widely at the tiny infant sleeping on the soft, white sheets. He reached down and brushed his thumb over her hair. She grunted in sleep and swept up a hand to move the ticklish sensation from her head. Her soft little hand collided with Danny's thumb, and her hand closed around it in sleep. She squeezed it involuntarily, and tilted her head towards Danny's hand.

Danny chuckled, unwound her fingers from his thumb, and turned to Lindsay.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Wait, where's your splint?"

"I don't want to wear it."

"Lindsay…" Danny said, looking at her arm.

"If I don't move my arm so much, it doesn't hurt. And it doesn't match my dress," Lindsay said simply, "If you try to make me wear it, then I'm not going out."

"A'right, a'right. Just let me bring the splint and you'll tell me when it hurts, yeah?"

She nodded.

* * *

"Hey, can you pass me the bread?" Danny asked, "And, oh, will you marry me?"

Lindsay covered her mouth to stifle the laughter, tears of mirth dripping from her eyes. Thank god the mascara was waterproof. Danny was on his twenty-seventh proposal of the night. The first had been dramatic and grand – he'd swept her up into his arms, stood her up on a bench at the edge of the tiny parking lot behind the restaurant, and got down on one knee in front of her. Some had been equally romantic: words whispered in between kisses against the cold metal of his car. Some had not been so romantic.

He had no ring, though. That, he said, would come when he felt like it.

The waiter walked over to their table and deposited the filet mignon Danny had ordered in front of him, and the bowl of French onion soup in front of Lindsay.

"Ma'am?" he asked Lindsay, "Is everything OK?"

"She's fine," Danny said, realizing that Lindsay was not going to be able to talk for a while. "We just broke up, and she's getting over – ow," he said, as Lindsay kicked his shin, hard, under the table.

The waiter blinked, nodded, and left, still confused.

"What did you kick me for?" Danny asked, reaching down to rub his shin.

"Don't make me laugh," she said in between hiccups.

"I can't help it. You're pretty when you laugh," he smiled, and started cutting his steak.

She blushed, and gave one last hiccup. "You say just the right things sometimes," she grinned, and picked up her spoon.

"How's this – marry me."

"No," she said, resting her head on her hand as she tried to hide her laughter again.

Danny watched her, amused, as he took a bite of his steak. He took a sip of his wine, watching her swallow her amusement, pick up her spoon, and take a bite of her soup. "So, do you still want to move in together?" he asked.

Lindsay nodded. "Yes," she said, "Of course I do. I talked to my landlord, and he said that once my lease is up, in four months –"

"Four freakin' months?" Danny exclaimed, dropping his knife. He shook his head and cut another bit of his steak. "I'll talk to him. I'm not waiting four months to move in together. I'll talk him down."

"Well, with the housing market the way it is now, I think we should be a little lenient –"

"Lindsay," Danny said, "An apartment in Manhattan will always sell. Believe me."

Lindsay sighed. "Maybe it's just … I mean, I don't want to move too quickly."

"I know – Believe me I know. This is the – what – the fifteenth time I've asked you to marry me?" he chuckled.

"Twenty-eight so far."

Danny pursed his lips, thinking. "Marry me?" he asked her.

"No," she said.

"Marry me, please?"

"No," she laughed.

"There. Thirty. I had to make it even."

* * *

"Don't sell it!" Lindsay exclaimed, as she and Danny walked hand in hand to the department car Danny had 'borrowed' for their date. "Please don't sell the motorcycle."

"I gotta sell it – do you know how hard it is to get a car seat attached to that thing?"

"Please," Lindsay begged, hanging on to his shirt and tugging on it.

Danny wrapped an arm around her shoulders and adjusted the leather jacket he'd handed to her once they stepped outside, zipping it partly up. He sighed. "Maybe I won't sell it."

Lindsay squealed in delight and wrapped her arms around his neck, stepping in front of him. She kissed him quickly, attempting just to peck his lips, but he held her there, moving one hand up to the back of her neck and the other just above her ass, and pulled her close to his body.

One hand smoothed the warm, soft skin of her neck, the other the slippery material of her dress.

His tongue found hers and, at the contact, Lindsay shivered and pressed herself closer to his body. She whimpered as the hand above her ass slipped lower.

They both looked up at a honk.

"Get out of the way!" a man yelled, leaning out of the window of his tiny, black BMW.

"Fuck you!" Danny yelled back, but moved his arms to Lindsay's waist and led her to the car, out of the middle of the parking lot. Once they got to the car, he pushed her up against it and kissed her again, the cold metal at her back, his warm body in front of her.

Danny drove her home eventually, parked, and walked her up to the apartment.

"I'll stay just to say goodnight to Celia."

"Why won't you stay the night?" Lindsay nearly pleaded, her arm around his waist as they walked up the stairs to her floor.

"I can't, OK? I don't want to do that. I want just a regular date with you, where I drop you off with a kiss at the door and go, and that's it. You said you wanted to go slow, didn't you?" he said with a smirk.

"Not _this _slow!" Lindsay exclaimed.

Danny laughed. They stepped out of the stairwell and onto Lindsay's floor. Lindsay unlocked the door with a pout and opened it to reveal Stella, who was talking quietly on her cell phone on the couch.

Stella gave a small wave to Lindsay and Danny and stood up. She walked over to them, pointed to the phone, and mouthed, 'Mac,' then gestured that she had to go. She kissed each of their cheeks before hurrying out of the apartment.

Danny and Lindsay walked into Celia's room. They both bent down into the crib and kissed her goodnight, Danny whispering something in her ear before standing up.

"What did you tell her?" Lindsay asked curiously.

"That's between me and her," Danny said with a grin. He led her out of the room, shut the door quietly, and kissed Lindsay gently on the lips. "I'm gonna go."

"No," Lindsay said with a pout, grabbing onto the lapels of his shirt and pulling him close to her.

Danny brought his hands up to hers, and clasped them before kissing her again. "I gotta go. I do. It's better this way. It's like a real date."

"It's not a real date unless we have sex," Lindsay declared.

Danny chuckled and gently pulled her hands off of his shirt. He grinned at her and made to leave.

"At least give me a real kiss," Lindsay huffed.

Danny turned around, grabbed her, and pulled her to his mouth. He kissed her so swiftly and expertly that it was all she could do but stay upright as his tongue ravaged her mouth. He pulled away with a smirk and left the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

"Lock the door!" she heard him say as he walked down the hall.

"Bastard," Lindsay muttered. She locked the door behind him and headed into her bedroom to slip off the red satin dress. She knew exactly what game he was playing. If she wanted to move slowly, he'd move slowly – so slowly that she headed back into her apartment each night with an unsatisfied ache in her lower stomach. Fine.

Two could play at that game.


	18. Chapter 18

**So. It's really short. My excuses for lateness and poor quality are as follows: I had to do a lot of work; there were small children yelling at me; I kept forgetting; I had to save the universe; I had a crapload of stress. So I'm sorry. However, I added some smut to appease some of you**.

**So this is rated M.**

* * *

Lindsay hung up the phone on her mother, her head pounding in rage. She threw her cell phone onto Danny's kitchen counter, and carried Celia into the nursery at the back of the apartment. She set the plastic baby carrier in front of the crib, and cursed its sharp edges for the fifth time in less than an hour. Her skin was constantly being chafed by the rough edges of the underside of the car seat. She'd left the baby sling at Danny's apartment, and had been forced to carry that stupid car seat from Julia's apartment, to the bus, to the ferry, to the subway station, switching trains, and then walking the two blocks from the subway entrance to Danny's apartment. Her arms were killing her.

"Hi, baby," Lindsay sighed, looking down at Celia. There were times, Lindsay realized, where all the anger and hate and worry she had simply faded from one look at Celia's face. She'd never been one to go gaa-gaa over a baby before, but after Celia, a lot of things about her life had changed. She bent down to unfasten the baby from her car seat, when a rush of tears caught in her throat.

She couldn't just put Celia down for a nap. She didn't want to look away.

She lifted the baby from the car seat and headed into the living room area.

* * *

"Lindsay, can I at least make us some dinner?" Danny asked, two hours later.

Lindsay shook her head, resting her head on his chest, her knees tucked under her as she cuddled up to his side. His arm was around her, the hand on her stomach, and she had one of her own hands wrapped tightly around it, holding him to her. He'd come home from a visit to his mother's place only to be pulled to the couch and forced to cuddle with her. Not that he was entirely bothered by it, but after a half an hour of being used as a teddy bear, his right side was falling asleep.

"Do you want to talk about work?" Danny asked, bringing his free hand to her hair and stroking softly.

"No," Lindsay said dully. She wanted the case out of her mind, the image of the small child wrapped in a tarp gone from her head. She wanted it to be entirely in her past. The worst part wasn't the toddler's dead body, for the child had appeared almost peaceful in death, something that the little boy hadn't had in life. No, the worst part, for Lindsay, was the mother, although not for her usual reasons. This mother was nonchalant; the tears that fell from her eyes were almost empty. If Lindsay lost Celia, she knew she wouldn't want to be alive. She had avoided the thought that Celia would one day leave her, because she simply could not fathom a life without her daughter. She had refused to think about it until those tears hit the surface of the metal table and echoed emptily through the room.

From that point on, all she could think about was Celia, who was now nestled in her baby rocking chair on the coffee table in front of Lindsay, her fist pressed up to her tiny pink lips as she tilted her head to the side in sleep.

A foot twitched, and Lindsay watched the little white sock slip further off of Celia's dainty foot even more.

Danny bent forwards to fix it, but Lindsay's vise grip kept him firmly cemented to the couch by his nearly paralyzed girlfriend. "Linds, come on. Can't I fix the sock?"

"Don't fix it," Lindsay said, biting the edge of her nail as she looked at the little foot. "Don't ruin it."

"Ruin what?" Danny asked, doing as she said and sitting back against the couch.

"She'll wake up. She'll be sad and she'll cry. Just … I need to watch her sleep for a little while." Lindsay looked up at him, mentally pleading with him to not think her crazy.

"OK, OK," Danny said, holding his hands up in surrender, and carefully set his arms back around Lindsay's body. He rested his head against the back of the couch, and Lindsay nuzzled her nose into the curve of his neck. She kissed the soft skin and turned her head to look at Celia again.

"Mac called, you know," Danny said, "He told me about the case. Said it was kinda hard for you to have a kid –"

"Stop," Lindsay asked quietly, watching Celia.

"C'mon, Linds!" Danny exclaimed, "You can't just sit here! Just talk to me, will you? Jesus!"

Celia woke up almost immediately after his tone, her hand jerking away from her mouth as she gave a soft grunt and let out a whimpering sob. Her blue eyes fluttered open and she started to fuss in the baby swing.

Lindsay pulled abruptly from Danny's embrace and swiftly unbuckled Celia from the baby rocker. She patted the baby's bottom as she tried to rock her back to sleep. She walked away from Danny, leaving him sitting, and looking guilty, on the couch.

"Linds," Danny started, standing up from the couch, "Look, sorry, but I –"

"You can't just yell like that," Lindsay sighed, rocking Celia from side to side, trying to soothe the baby. She turned away from him and tried to head into the baby's room to grab a toy to distract Celia with.

Danny stopped her, laying a hand on her shoulder, and turned her around. He stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her and Celia, low around her waist. He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. He broke away and rested one hand on the back of Celia's head.

"I'm sorry, Lindsay," he said.

"I'm not the one you woke up," she said primly, with a slight joking edge to her tone.

Danny bent down and kissed the side of Celia's brown, curly hair, inhaling the scent of Johnston's baby powder and the vanilla scented baby lotion Lindsay sometimes used on Celia's tummy to keep it from getting too dry. "I'm sorry I woke you up, honey," he said dutifully, and kissed her little button nose.

She gurgled and tried to reach up to grab Danny's dog tags, which were slipping out of his shirt. She managed to catch them after Danny set his feet a little wider and bent down a little more, so she could catch hold of them. She immediately tried to put them in her mouth, and Danny watched in amusement as she could not fit the length of the metal object in her mouth.

"I know you'd never hurt her," Lindsay said quietly, shifting Celia onto one arm and reaching up to pull the dog tags away from Celia's mouth.

"Is that what this is about?" Danny asked.

"You're so good with her. And you love her," Lindsay said, "That's something I'll never question."

"But?"

Lindsay sighed. "Do you miss it?" she asked, looking up at him, "Do you miss the way you used to be?"

"What way?" he asked, watching Celia shake the dog tags with jerky movements, watching her smile at the tinkling sound.

"The freedom. The girlfriends. The good nights' sleep, not having to wake up for the baby, doing what you want," she said.

He turned to look at her. "I _have_ freedom. I _have_ a girlfriend. And the only times I don't get a good nights sleep are the times when I have to go home and sleep, and I can't stay here with you two."

"But if you had to chose, which –"

"_This_ life. I don't miss the old one." He brushed his lips against her forehead. "Do you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Sometimes I fantasize about being stick skinny again, but that's about it," she laughed.

"You _are_ stick skinny. You're anemic, for Chrissake. So don't even joke about that until you got some meat on those bones," he said, squeezing her small body closer. He kissed her softly. "Did you have to interrogate the mother?" he asked.

Lindsay's face grew solemn and she frowned. She looked down at Celia and jiggled the baby a little bit to keep her from growing bored.

"I'm sorry," Danny said, and cupped her cheek.

"She wasn't sad," Lindsay said quietly, "Her son was dead and she barely seemed to care." She tipped her head up to him. "Her husband killed her son and she doesn't want a divorce."

"So she's crazy. They both are. That's not us, though, and we don't have to think about them," he assured her, and kissed her sweetly, then pressed his nose to hers. "We're not them. We never will be."

* * *

Lindsay hurriedly stirred the rice in the pan on the stove, wincing as a speck of boiling water splashed out of the pot and burned her face. She brushed at the spot and moved to the steak that was sitting on a plate on the counter. She sprinkled a few choice spices on it and whipped around, only to find herself staring at Danny's chest. She looked up at him and grinned.

"She's asleep?" Lindsay asked

He nodded.

"How much trouble did she give you? You went in there an hour ago."

"I was sitting with her."

"And doing what?" Lindsay asked, pulling out plates for the two of them. Danny pulled out two glasses from the cupboard and filled them with water. He set them on the island counter.

"I was just talkin' to her, hangin' out."

"Daddy time?" she giggled.

He hugged her from behind while simultaneously reaching past her to snag a caramelized onion from next to the steak. He popped it into his mouth and squeezed Lindsay tightly before breaking away and giving her a quick swat on the ass.

She squeaked and made her plate. He filled his own and went to sit next to her at the counter. He hooked his foot around the bottom of her stool and sat tilted towards her as he ate. He liked to watch her when she thought no one was looking. She had a habit of biting her lower lip.

"So the case was hard," Danny said, slipping a bite of steak into his mouth.

She nodded.

"Mac said you almost punched a suspect."

"I was never going to punch him," Lindsay said crossly, and jabbed her steak with her fork. "I was just going to … scare him a little."

"Oh, yeah?" Danny asked. "Will you promise me somethin'?"

She looked up at him, chewing a bite of her steak.

"Don't punch suspects until your arm gets a little better," he suggested, nodding at the arm she had resting on the table, "By the way, how was signing up for physical therapy this morning?"

She shrugged. "My trainer looks like Clint Eastwood."

"Seriously?" he asked, picking up his water. He took a sip, his thumb slipping on the condensation on the glass.

"Yep. He even has the same voice. It's incredible."

"So when do you start?"

"As soon as I get to get this stupid splint off for good," she said, raising up the arm.

"I can't believe you were going to punch someone with that arm," Danny chuckled. "Flack said the guy nearly peed his pants."

"I'm glad you get some enjoyment out of this," Lindsay grumbled. She took another bite.

Danny tugged her stool closer to his with the foot that was hooked around one of the supports. Lindsay looked up at him, a little shocked.

"Hey," he said, setting his fork down, and tucked her hair behind her ear, "It was a hard case. We both get them, OK? I know it feels really fresh right now, but just try to relax and let it go."

"I can't let it go," she said tersely, "I can't relax, OK? It's hard for me."

"Do you want some help?" he asked, swallowing the bite of onions he had in his mouth.

"No," she said dully. She shoved her plate forwards. "I'm not hungry. And I'm tired, OK? I'm going to go to bed. Did you bring over my toothbrush yet?"

He shook his head. "I've still got the red one you used while you were staying here earlier, though. It's above the sink when you want it."

She hesitated before getting up. "I'll clean up, if you –"

"Go," he said with a grin, "I'll take care of it. But you gotta do something for me."

"What?" she asked tiredly.

He cut off a piece of the steak that was still left on her plate and held it out to her, holding his hand under the end of the fork so that it didn't drip onto the floor. He nodded it at the fork.

Lindsay rolled her eyes but leaned forwards and closed her mouth around the steak. She chewed it and swallowed it, grinned at him, and headed towards the bathroom.

Danny finished off his dinner and cleared his and Lindsay's plates from the counter. He washed them off quickly and opened his dishwasher to put them away. He grinned widely as he saw the three empty bottles lined up along the side of the dishwasher. Used to be, it would take him at least two or three days to fill up a dishwasher, and that was only if he used copious amounts of pots and pans for dinner preparation. Now, with Lindsay over all the time, the dishwasher filled up quickly. It was a little thought, but it made him so impossibly satisfied, and if he ever told Flack about it he'd never hear the end.

He lazily padded into the bathroom, assuming Lindsay was long since in bed, and opened the door.

He heard a quiet yelp over the hiss of his shower. He turned to the shower curtain and slid it open, revealing a very naked, very surprised Lindsay. She was turned away from him, her round little butt facing him.

Danny laughed out loud. "Are you showering?"

"No, dumbass, I'm picking daisies," she snapped, and whipped the curtain shut in his face.

Danny stared at the plastic curtain for a moment before slipping it open and taking a long look at her. She didn't notice for a while, too concentrated on the warm sting of the shower on her face. Danny admired how the water clung to her creamy skin, how her hair looked all wet, how a slippery Lindsay was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

He whistled.

Lindsay turned half-way around, her arms over her chest, looking at him with her mouth open in shock. "Shut the curtain, you freak!" she shrieked.

"Why?" he asked, meeting her gaze.

"B-because I'm showering!" she spluttered.

"But you look so lonely," Danny said, his voice full of dramatic sadness.

"I'm not lonely," she hissed, "Shut the curtain."

Danny pouted like a little boy, and made no move to shut the curtain.

"Danny!" Lindsay shrieked.

Danny sighed loudly, rolled his eyes, and slowly shut the curtain. He walked over to the sink and put some toothpaste on his toothbrush. He grinned as he saw her toothbrush lying on the side of the sink. He brushed his teeth slowly, listening to the sound of the shower, hoping to hear her speak to him. He wished he could hear her mention something, anything, about the case she'd had. After Celia was born, the first case Danny had had back on the job after his suspension had been the rape and murder of a seven-year-old girl. He'd closed the case quickly, having matched DNA to a convicted offender, and having found the man's fingerprints all over the broken door to the little girl's apartment. That sickening, worrisome feeling didn't leave him from the moment he saw that little girl lying on the floor of her home, right up until he saw Celia lying in her little bassinette in Lindsay's room at the hospital.

He still got that same feeling every time a child was involved in a case, and always, the only cure was the sight of Celia. But he still couldn't fathom why she wouldn't want to just talk about it, get it out.

Danny washed his mouth out and set his toothbrush on the side of the sink, next to Lindsay's. He walked to the shower again, slipped open the curtain, on the other side this time.

Lindsay gasped again and rolled her eyes as she saw him staring at her. She opened her mouth to yell at him, but he reached out, cupped the side of her face with his hand, and pulled her forwards out of the spray, and kissed her passionately.

His tongue slipped between her lips, and he grinned when she whimpered. She pulled back and looked at him, surprised.

Lindsay couldn't believe how easily her anger over the case faded with Danny's touch. The image of the little girl's dead body had disappeared the second Danny had touched her face.

"Do it again," she whispered.

Danny obliged happily, pulling her wet body to his and wrapping his arms around her, one resting on the small of her back, the other between her shoulder blades.

The only thing between them was the edge of the tub Lindsay was standing in, and it pressed uncomfortably to Lindsay's shins. Danny's hand slipped around from the small of her back to her lower stomach, where it slid down between her legs and found her clit with eager fingers. He rubbed it gently, then slid a finger inside her with little warning, finding her ready and willing despite the short duration of their touch. He moved in and out of her as he kept his thumb on her clit, rubbing light quick circles interspaced with an occasional hard flick.

She was coming before she knew it, muffling the scream in his shirt, which was damp from her slippery body and the fine mist of the shower, it took her forever to come down from her high, as he chose not to slow his thrusting fingers nor his thumb.

"Take of your clothes," she panted.

Danny obliged, holding her up with one arm while he reached over his shoulder, grabbed hold of his shirt, and tore it over his head. He let go of her for a minute to toss it aside, then flicked open his pants. He kicked out of them and pulled her to his body again, lifting her up and out of the tub. He bent down to turn off the shower and kicked off his boxers at the same time. Once he straightened, he lifted her up again and carried her to the bathroom, her naked body pressed tightly to his. He grabbed a condom from above the sink as they left, and popped it between Lindsay's lips. She held it in her teeth for as long as she could before the desire to kiss him rose again. She took the packet in her hand and bent in for an intense kiss while she wrapped the condom packet open behind his head with her hands.

She realized that she had cried during her orgasm only after he set her on the bed, taken the condom from her hands, and crawled on top of her. His breath on her face made the tears dry in cold, salty paths down her face. He kissed the tears away, his tongue lightly flicking at her skin while he eased himself inside her.

She let out a soft cry when their hips met, and buried her face into his neck as he started to move. When his slow, loving pace wasn't fast enough, Lindsay gathered her strength and flipped him over, winding up on top of him.

With a soft grunt, Lindsay bent her knees on either side of him.

He adjusted himself on his back, wriggling a little so that the sheets didn't bunch under his body. He reached up with one hand and started to softly rub her still-swollen clit with his index finger.

At the sensation, Lindsay collapsed forwards, her hands dropping to the mattress on either side of his head. She took in a deep breath and started to ride him slowly.

When they came, Lindsay cried again, the anger and the tension leaving her body in waves. Her breath was so ragged that the sobs were like wounded gasps, and Danny worried that she was going to hyperventilate. He rolled her to her back and slid out of her quickly. He rolled off the condom and hurried to the bathroom.

He brought back a cup of ice cold water, holding his boxers in one hand.

He helped her sit up and made sure she drank the whole thing, until her gasping stopped. Once the gasping was gone, the real crying started, and Danny found himself cradling her naked body against his chest, tasting her sweat and her tears, as she sobbed over and over again that 'it was just a little girl.'

He knew it wasn't just the job. Lindsay was strong – she wasn't about to cry after every hard case.

"What else?" he asked, his arms tight around her body.

"My mother called again today," Lindsay sobbed, "Oh, God, Danny, I hate talking to her. I just want her to SHUT UP!" she yelled into his neck, and broke back down into tears.

"If it makes you sad, then you don't have to talk to her," Danny assured her, "Just don't listen."

"I have to," she sniffed, "She's my mother."

"So?" Danny said, "I didn't listen to a fucking word my father said, and I'm doin' fine."

Lindsay gave a watery laugh and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

"Here," Danny said, and reached over for a corner of the sheets. He pulled it up to her, and she used it to soak up the tears from her eyes.

"Look, the next time she calls, tell me. We'll put it on speakerphone; take her on together. How's that?" he asked.

She nodded, and sniffed. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little … tense. There was this case today, and then my mother, and I'm about to start my period, and I'm tired –"

"Hey, hey," Danny soothed, kissing her head, "You don't gotta blame it on any of that stuff. I get it. Sometimes you just gotta get it all out. I know, OK?"

She nodded and wiggled closer to him. He hugged her tightly and looked around his room for something for her to wear. He set her down on the bed, got up, and pulled on his boxers. He headed over to his dresser and pulled out a set of sweatpants and a large, soft Mets t-shirt. He tossed them onto the bed and crawled onto the bed.

Lindsay pulled them on and wiggled under the covers. Danny curled up around her, wrapping his arms around her stomach.

"I'm going on birth control soon," Lindsay said quietly.

"Oh, yeah?" Danny asked. He traced the curve of her ear with the tip of his finger.

She smiled and nodded, bringing her shoulder to her ear to wiggle away from his ticklish touch.

"Well, just let me know if you wanna go off it again."

Lindsay turned her head to look at him. "What do you mean? Is this your way of saying you want to have more kids?"

Danny got up on his elbow rested his head on his upturned hand. "I mean, I'm not sayin' you have to or anything, but if you ever want to, then I do too."

"Just like that?" Lindsay asked with a tired giggle, "Just … whenever I feel like it, you want to as well?"

"I like Celia, and I want more of her," he said simply.

Lindsay laughed and kissed him, then grabbed the hand he wasn't resting on and dragged it around to her stomach, under her shirt. She liked his warm hand on her stomach. "You're so weird sometimes," she said with a little laugh.

"I'm weird?" he asked with a snort, "Speak for yourself, bug-eatin' country girl."

"Hey! You ate them, too," Lindsay protested tiredly.

"So?" he growled, and nuzzled his way into the back of her neck. He kissed it and rested his head on the pillow as he slid his hand under her body and pulled her back into his chest. "You're still weird. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Nice save," she mumbled, her eyelids softly closing. She felt him whisper an I love you in her ear right before her eyelids dropped, and fell asleep smiling.


	19. Chapter 19

**Thanks to Meg for this chapter. The words are mine, but part of the plot is hers :P Also, it ends abruptly because Megs made me upload. So blame and thank her for everything.**

**Also, I will respond to the reviews. Give me a second. My life is a little hectic right now...**

* * *

Danny had finally managed to fall asleep when the knock sounded at the door. He'd spent hours trying to sleep in the uncomfortable position on which Lindsay had fallen asleep. She had been sprawled over his body, half of her body crushing his. He'd had to wait until she was asleep before adjusting her and wiggling into a sleep with her.

Lindsay's eyes opened immediately after the knock sounded, and she struggled to her elbows. It was when she started to roll out of bed that Danny had to stop her.

He shook his head. "When it's two in the morning, _I_ answer the door," he said with a grin, "We've been over this."

"I still don't get what the big deal is," Lindsay complained as he stood up and headed towards the door, upon which someone had begun to pound furiously.

"It's still just my apartment anyways," Danny said, and peered through the peephole. He squinted, remembering the face from a picture, and frowned. He started to undo the locks on the door, then swung it open.

A young, jittery man of about twenty five stood before him, a huge, goofy smile on his face, and pupils the size of saucers in his eyes. Danny recognized Lindsay's nose on his face immediately.

"You're, uh, Eric, right?" he asked.

"You're the cheater!" Eric said jubilantly. He held out his hand. "Eric, the brother. I'd hurt you, but I guess dad might have already. Did he?"

Danny nodded, and leaned against the doorframe, blocking Eric from entering. He crossed his arms over his wife-beater shirt, and frowned disapprovingly at Eric.

"So, is my sister around?" Eric asked, blinking rapidly.

"How did you know where to go?" Danny asked, squinting at Eric.

"Lindsay gave your address to Uncle Freddy in case there was an emergen – Linds!" he shouted, staring past Danny to his sleepy-eyed sister, who was stumbling tiredly towards him in a long, baggy gray t-shirt and white cotton underwear.

Danny turned his head to look at her, and moved to the side as Lindsay brushed past him and threw her arms around Eric's neck. She hugged him tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, ignoring the distinct scent of booze, and smiled.

"Oh, I missed you, Eric," she said.

"Well, I'm right here," Eric laughed. "You moved!" he said excitedly.

"And I had a baby," she giggled, "But she's asleep. You can meet her in the morning. Where are you staying? Are you at a hotel?"

"Well, about that…" he said, blinking quickly and rubbing his eyes quickly and harshly, his hand flicking up like a lizard's tongue and wiping sweat from his forehead, despite the cold temperature in the hallway. "I was thinking that you could give me the key to your apartment, because uncle Freddy says you still own it, and I could crash there for a night or two –"

"Oh," Lindsay said, "I … well …" She turned to look at Danny, who was staring at Eric with a fierce suspicion. "Danny, how about we go and get my key?" she asked, her eyebrows lifting, indicating that she wanted to speak with him privately.

Danny took the hint and nodded, running a hand through his hair and turning around. Lindsay followed him to the kitchen, leaving Eric in the doorway. Once they were in a small corner of the kitchen, Danny turned around quickly and said, "I don't like this. He's high off his ass, and I don't want him around Celia like that. I know he's your brother, and Celia's uncle, but that's not –"

Lindsay bit her lip. "He's my brother. My little brother, Danny."

"I know that," Danny said, sighing heavily, "And I'm sorry that I have to be like this. He can hang around us for as long as he's here, but I see him with any drugs or alcohol around Celia, he's out."

Lindsay nodded and stepped back, clearly hurt.

"Look, Linds, you know I'm the same way with my own brother. Any bad shit, and he's gone. I'm not about to allow that with Celia around," he explained.

"He won't do that," Lindsay said bitterly, "He's leaving, so he'll be out of your _hair_. I'll give him the key to my place, and I'll go get him a taxi over there."

"C'mon, Linds, don't be like that," Danny said, grabbing her arm as she tried to turn away.

"You've known him for under five minutes!" she hissed, "Can you really just judge him like that – immediately?"

Danny nodded. "I see it all the time on the job, and you do, too. I'm surprised you're being so naïve."

Lindsay groaned in frustration and ripped her arm out of his grasp. "You're such a condescending ass sometimes," she snapped.

"I am not!" he hissed back, "I'm looking out for my _daughter_."

Lindsay whipped back around to him, her arms balled into fists. "Like I can't do that? You always do this, Danny, you act like I'm some horrible mother who can't take care of her own daughter! Do you even realize that I was doing that fine until you came along? That I was taking care –"

"Lindsay, I'm not second guessing you," Danny said, "Look, this is how it works, OK? We're _both_ her parents. We both add something to how we want her to be raised, and if there's anything that you don't like about what I do around her, then you can say something just like I do –"

"You don't _say _things Danny, you _decree_ them," she said fiercely, "It's like you're some kind of dictator, like whatever you say is the law and whatever I do or want is stupid –"

"I never thought that!" he yelled.

The sound woke Celia, and they quieted to hear her whimpering through the baby monitor.

"Well that's what it feels like," Lindsay hissed, and turned to go back to the front door. She snatched her keys from the counter and headed towards her brother.

"I'm sorry," Danny called out to her, "I just want her to have a good life. A safe life."

Lindsay turned around and looked at him sadly. "I know you do," she sighed, "But he's my brother."

Danny nodded and followed her towards the front door. "Hey, Eric?" he said, "Couch over there is free if you need somewhere to crash for the night."

Lindsay's face brightened as she looked at Danny.

"Thanks!" Eric said.

"Just go to sleep now," Lindsay said with a smile, "We'll talk in the morning."

She pulled him in and brought him to the couch, talking excitedly about the things they could do the next day. She pulled some blankets and sheets out from the little closet next to Danny's kitchen and started to set up the bed.

"How long are you here for?" she asked happily.

Eric shrugged and sniffed, blinking rapidly. "Few days, I guess. I've got some shit to do." He scratched at his arm and grinned at Lindsay.

Danny closed the front door and locked it again. He headed into the baby's room to see if she was still upset by the noise.

He looked down into her crib and saw she was asleep again, her fist tucked under her chin and her feet bent out to the sides. He folded his arms on the edge of the crib and rested his chin on his arms, watching her. She was wearing a flannel onesie with a pattern of animated moons. Danny watched her little stomach rise and fall.

He chuckled as she scrunched her nose in sleep and the hand that was lying beside her head balled into a fist momentarily.

"Night, gorgeous," he said to her, his voice no more than a low rumble. He gently reached down and moved one of her short, brown curls off of her forehead and ran his fingers down her cheek lovingly. "I love you, Celia." He straightened and headed back into his and Lindsay's bedroom, throwing a quick glance over to Eric, who was sprawled on the couch, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

"Night, man," he said to Eric, and headed into his bedroom. He shut the door behind him and headed to the bed, where Lindsay was pulling the covers up to her chin.

She reached out for him, and he slipped in beside her. She cuddled up to his body, resting her head on his shoulder. Danny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer.

"I don't mean to act like that," he said.

"I know," she sighed.

"I just get so scared, and there's so much that I can't control about what happens to her, and I want to do what I can."

Lindsay nodded against his chest and rested her hand on his shirt, playing with the hem of it. She zig-zagged her finger back and forth across the line where his shirt raised just above the line of his pants, the tip of her finger grazing his skin. "I get the same way sometimes."

"I'll try to stop being so protective," he said.

She giggled. "That's kind of hard for you."

He smiled. "Can I help it if I want my girls to be safe?"

"We're your girls?" Lindsay asked with a chuckle, "Is that what you call me and Celia in your head?"

"Yeah, you got a problem with that, Montana?" he drawled.

Lindsay laughed and nuzzled into his body. "Nope," she smiled, "You're so cute sometimes."

"I am not cute," he snapped, "I'm not cute. Girls are cute. Babies are cute. _I _am not cute."

"You're right. You're _adorable_."

"Adorable, huh?" he growled, abruptly flipping her onto her back and setting his body on top of hers. "How's this, this adorable?" he asked, bending to where her neck met her collarbone. He sucked hard on the bit of skin, biting and nipping at it.

Lindsay gasped and tightened her grip on him. "That's so cute of you, Danny," she urged.

"Cute? Screw you," he snorted as she laughed. He moved further down her body, pulling her shirt up and moving his mouth to her stomach. He licked it and blew on the skin just below her belly button, making her gasp and writhe again. "What about that, that _cute, _Montana?"

"Ab-absol-absolutely adorable, Danny," she panted, "Really precious."

Danny grabbed the sides of her underwear and brought them down her legs. "Let's see what you think is precious after this, huh, Montana?" he asked with a smirk, and bent in towards her body.

* * *

"She's tiny!" Eric exclaimed, holding Celia out in front of him with both of his hands. Celia kicked her little covered feet, and brought her fist to her mouth. Her brow furrowed when she realized that the fist was covered in a thick mitten, attached to her coat.

Lindsay laughed, moving a hand to Celia's bottom protectively. "You're holding her like Simba from the lion king. You can cradle her, Eric."

"Psht, no thanks," Eric said with a grin, "I don't want all them baby germs on me."

Lindsay laughed. "You have so many more germs than she does!" she yelled. She plucked Celia from Eric's grasp and settled the baby back against her chest. She put a hand on the thick white cap on Celia's head and kissed the baby's forehead.

"I don't have germs; I'm clean as a whistle," Eric said.

Lindsay pondered the implications of that statement, and looked at his face with a scrutinizing eye. She knew he'd had trouble with crack when he was graduating high school, but she'd thought he'd left the habit in his past. It seemed, though, that he'd continued it. He was thin. Eric had always been a little pudgy, but now he was rail-thin. His hair was a mess, and he had dark circles under his eyes.

"How's Jocelyn?" Lindsay asked, "Are you two …"

"We broke up," Eric said. He sniffed and wiped a bit of sweat that had collected on his forehead. "She was kind of a bitch."

"I liked her," Lindsay said, "She was so sweet."

"Kinda boring, though."

"Sometimes that's a good thing," Lindsay said, and cuddled Celia. They were sitting on a bench outside, in Central Park. Lindsay's cup of tea was sitting on the ground, letting of a steady puff of steam.

"Not for me," Eric grinned.

Lindsay checked her watch. "We should call Danny and have him come pick us up. I don't want to walk home with Celia in this weather. She was sick earlier this month, and I don't want her getting something worse this soon. It's not good for her to be in the cold too long." She tugged her phone out of her purse and dialed the first speedail. He picked up immediately.

"_What's up?" _he asked.

"Can you come and get us?" she asked, "we're at the park. I don't want Celia to –"

"_Is she cold? Why don't you get inside somewhere and wait for me?"_

"OK," Lindsay said, "We'll go into the Starbucks on sixty fourth, right near the park, OK?"

"_Great. I'll see you there."_

--

Danny was walking down the sidewalk to his car, his eyes on his phone, one hand shoved in the pocket of his leather jacket. He grinned at the background on his phone, a snapshot of Celia I Lindsay's arms. The baby was reaching out to Danny as he snapped her picture. She had a huge smile on her face, her toothless gums bared.

Suddenly, Danny was smacked to the ground. His head hit the sidewalk with a dull smack, and he looked around, blinking and trying to clear his blurry vision.

A hard, dull blow came to the side of his head. He lifted his arm up to shield himself when a second blow hit his He looked up to see a blob of flesh-colored shape in front of him, and blinked again.

"You bastard, get away from me!" Someone was screaming.

He blinked again, and his vision righted. A woman was straddling him, entirely nude in the freezing snow, beating him with a purse.

"What the fuck…" Danny muttered, shielding his face.

"GUN!" the woman shrieked, leaping from his body, "He has a gun!"

"Fuckin…" Danny groaned, attempting to clear his blurry vision. He struggled to his elbows, only to be shoved back onto the ground by a much heavier, much more clothed form.

"Ma'am, are you OK?" a deep, rumbling voice asked.

_Why's he calling me ma'am? _Danny thought, and tried to mumble a response.

"Shut up, pervert," the rumbling voice directed at Danny.

"Wh-" Danny tried to say, before someone punched him in the face. He turned to his side to block the blow, and someone slapped down his arm, which he'd raised to protect himself. His arm hit the ground, the fingers smashing hard into the ground. He let out a low shout as pain exploded in his fingers.

"I called the cops!" someone shouted from the crowd that was surrounding Danny, the bulky, rumbling voice, and the naked woman.

"Shit," Danny muttered.

"Yeah, shit is right!" the rumbling voice said, "Thought you could get away with assaulting a poor young woman on the street, in broad daylight? Yeah, think again. What are you, the world's dumbest rapist?"

Danny attempted to get up and defend himself, but he was forced down once again.

"Hey, hey, what's goin' on here?" Danny heard from behind him.

He looked up, blinked, and saw Don and Mac standing above him. They both had on their 'cop faces,' authoritative and observant, but Don was barely holding in laughter while Mac was more contained.

"We found this son of a bitch attacking that woman!" The rumbling voice said. Danny tried to glance up to look at the source of the voice. He caught a glimpse of curly brown hair and a large, pointy nose before his head was shoved back to the ground, leaving him with a dull feeling in his head.

"How about we let him up?" Flack suggested.

"I don't want him to get away."

"I'll put my cuffs on him; would that make you feel better?" Don asked. Mac turned to look at him sharply, a warning look on his face.

Don grinned at Mac and shrugged.

"He has a gun!" the rumbling voice said.

"Yes, he does," Don said, "He's a cop."

"A what?" the naked woman asked, finally speaking up.

"Ma'am, you look cold," Don said, his eyes flicking rapid-fast to her chest. He had to swallow his laughter. "How about you put on some clothes."

"This man ripped them off me!" she shrieked, pointing at Danny.

"I fuckin' beg to differ," Danny mumbled, trying to shake off the shape on top of him.

"Let's let Detective Messer up," Mac said, nodding at the curly-haired man on top of Danny. The man slowly stepped off of Danny, and Mac held out a hand, which Danny took, and helped Danny to his feet. Danny was holding his other arm at a strange angle, shielding the fingers. "Are you all right?" Mac asked Danny quietly.

"My fingers," he said, holding out the hand. In addition to the scrapes and cuts on the tops of his fingers, he seemed to be holding them at a strange angle.

"Again with the broken fingers, Danno?" Flack asked lightheartedly.

"Shove it, Flack," Danny grunted.

"Arrest him!" the naked woman shrieked, "He tried to rape me!"

"How about we go and get you some clothes?" Flack suggested, "Then I'll take your statement."

"And if the video camera on that building corresponds with your story," Mac said, pointing to the video camera affixed to the outside of a nearby coffee shop, "Then we'll make an arrest."

Danny hid his grin.

"Come on, Danny, we'll get you checked out at a hospital," Mac said. Upon the looks of the curly-haired man and the naked woman, he added, "And we'll post an officer at your door, so no funny business."

Flack let out a laugh, which he quickly turned into a cough. He motioned to the naked woman, who marched proudly in front of him.

* * *

"But is he OK?" Lindsay asked Mac on the phone. Celia was in the baby sling against her chest, watching her mother with those big blue eyes that seemed only wider with the white cap on her head and a blue blanket wrapped around her.

"_One broken finger, another is sprained. But he should be absolutely fine. His x-ray was fairly interesting – it's the same hand he broke during the hostage takeover a few years ago. He asked me to tell you to take a cab home, and not the subway."_ Mac said calmly.

"Well, we're not going home. I'm going right over there. Which hospital is he at?"

"_St. Vincent's."_

"We'll be right there," Lindsay said. She hung up quickly, and dragged Eric to a cab.

"What happened?" Eric asked.

"I have to get to the hospital. Come on. Danny's been hurt, and someone's filing charges of rape against him…"

"Rape?" Eric asked in surprise, "What kind of guy is he? I mean, I heard stories from mom, but I didn't think –"

"Mom is a liar," Lindsay said with gritted teeth, "There's a logical explanation; I'll tell you in the cab."

"I don't wanna go," Eric whined, "I'm have to go see some people."

"Fine, Eric," Lindsay snapped, holding onto Celia as she hurried into the subway station. She knew that Danny wanted her to take a cab, but there was something that made her feel so efficient, like she was in control, when she took the subway. "I'll see you back at Danny's later tonight."

"I'm gonna crash with Uncle Fred tonight," Eric called out to her, "See ya tomorrow. I want you to meet someone."

Lindsay barely heard him as she swiped her ticket, hurried into the station, and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for a train.

* * *

"This is for sure, no doubt in your mind, the only color you have left for gauze?" Danny asked dubiously, looking down at his hand.

Dr. Light nodded and continued wrapping Danny's fingers in hot pink gauze. Her gaze flicked up to Flack's, who was standing at the door, behind Danny, dimples in full view as he smiled the biggest smile he had in a long time. He waved the twenty he had in his hand at the woman and headed out of the room.

He looked up as he heard heels clicking on the linoleum. "Linds, hey," he said.

"Where is he?" Lindsay asked worriedly, "Is he OK? What about the charges, what's going on? Is the woman OK? What's going on?"

"He's fine," Don said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Take a deep breath. He's absolutely fine."

She did as he asked, breathing in deeply and letting the quiet panic in her head die down. She smiled at Flack, her eyes watering. She hugged him as well as she could with the baby on her chest. "Sorry," she said, "I was just

He smiled back and hugged her. "He's just getting bandaged up. Go on in."

Lindsay hurried into the room.

The doctor came out and smiled at Flack. She held out her hand. Don dropped the twenty in her upturned palm with a grin. "Thanks; I really appreciate this," Don said.

"No problem," she said, "He fell for it. I gave him a roll of the gauze to use at home to re-bandage, free of charge. Nothing's stopping him from changing the color, of course, but I told him that he needed to leave the one I put on there for at least three days."

"You're a doll, Megan," Don said with a laugh.

"I know," the doctor said with a devilish grin. She waved him goodbye with a little flirty wink, and headed back to her station, flicking her brown hair behind her.

Don was pretty sure she'd be happy to note that he'd scribbled his phone number on a note that he'd tucked into the twenty-dollar bill.

* * *

"Oh, your eye," Lindsay said sympathetically, gently touching the bruise underneath Danny's eye, "Is that the same one my father…"

"Yeah," Danny grunted, holding the ice pack to his head with his good hand. "Looks like we both got a little bit of hand trouble," he said, nodding at her splint.

"When does yours come off?" Lindsay asked.

"Couple weeks," Danny said, inspecting his hand. The pink was so bright that it actually hurt his eyes. "Where's your brother? I thought he was with you."

"He had friends to see. He's staying at Uncle Fred's tonight, which is good. You can have a quiet night," she said worriedly, gently touching his face.

Danny set his ice pack down on the metal table beside him and reached into the baby sling. He gently touched the side of Celia's face with a smile. "Hi, honey," he said softly.

She grabbed his finger and tried to stuff it in her mouth. He grinned and carefully pulled it away. She surprised him by tugging back and shoving his finger in her mouth.

Danny snorted and pulled back his finger, wiping the baby spit off on his pants. "She's got a pretty strong grip," he said proudly to Lindsay.

Lindsay was busy observing the bump at the back of Danny's head. She picked the ice pack up and placed it on the bruise, holding it there. "Is someone filing rape charges against you?" she asked nervously.

Danny snorted again. "Yeah. Some chick jumped on me and started screaming rape on the sidewalk. It was crazy."

"But she … I mean … that's it?" Lindsay asked.

Danny looked up at her. "You don't believe me?" he asked, confused.

"Of course I do," she said, "It's just kind of a weird story." She touched his head softly, inspecting the wound.

"I can't believe you," he snapped, "You don't fucking believe me. You know what? Ask Flack, or Mac – they were there for the whole thing. And if you don't believe that, then you can watch the video tapes." He shook his head in disbelief. "What is wrong with you?"

"I just want to know what happened," she said quietly, "And it sounds like a weird story – that's it. I just …" she sighed, "I just thought that maybe there was more to it."

"Like how?" Danny asked angrily.

"I don't know," Lindsay said, "Maybe you knew her before, but you didn't remember?"

"I remember who I've slept with, Lindsay," Danny growled.

"Just never mind," Lindsay said, a tear dripping from her eye. She brushed it away quickly, trying to hide it from him.

"Are you crying?" Danny asked, his voice immediately softening.

"No," she said hurriedly.

"Lindsay, what's wrong?" he asked, reaching up to her face. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with his good arm and then brushing her tears away. "What's the matter?"

She shook her head. "I was just worried about you. And I thought … it was just briefly, but … Mac said you'd been found with a naked woman, and I just …"

"You thought I was maybe cheating on you?" he asked understandingly.

She nodded.

"Sit down," he said, scooting over on the examining table. She sat down next to him and pulled Celia out of the baby carrier, and set the baby in her lap. She held on to Celia while he talked. "Lindsay, I did that once, and I know how much I hurt you. I will never, ever do that again. I could never risk losing you."

She nodded.

He tipped her chin up towards him with his hand. "Just tell me you understand that. I know it's been hard for you with everything I've done, but please don't ever think that."

"I understand," Lindsay said with a sniff. Danny kissed her cheek and ran a hand through her hair.

"You wanna go home? Eat some food, take a nap? Mac gave me the day off. We could take a little nap on the couch…"

Lindsay nodded and stood up.

Danny took Celia in his good arm, setting her on his hip. He rested his arm around Lindsay's shoulders as they walked out of the hospital. He quickly signed out and left the building.

They got home and fell asleep together, lying on the couch with Celia on the baby rocking chair on the floor. Danny woke briefly when Celia threw her pacifier at him.

He moved his finger to his lips and smiled at her before reaching over Lindsay and popping the pacifier back into Celia's mouth. "Mommy's sleeping…" he whispered.

He smiled at her and nestled back into Lindsay's body, feeling her warm skin against his. He wouldn't give it up for anything.


	20. Chapter 20

Danny frowned as he looked into the interrogation room, where Stella was comforting Lucinda McCarthy, formerly known as 'the naked lady.'

The two women stood up, and Stella gave a sly grin to the interrogation room window, towards Danny as she followed Lucinda out the door. Lucinda had dressed since her last encounter with the police the day earlier, and was now clothed in a tight white mini-dress and sheer black pantyhose. She strutted out of the room with her head held high, her tall black high heels causing her hips to swing from side to side. She walked right past the door Danny stood behind, down the hallway. Once Danny saw through the little window that she'd headed out into the bullpen to make her exit, he stepped out of the little room and stood before Stella with his good hand in his pocket.

"So," he said, glancing at the door that Lucinda had just left through.

Stella sighed. "She doesn't have really any physical proof, Danny, and that's good. But the fact remains that she can say whatever she wants, can explain her way around the evidence to the press, and then whatever we do is just irrelevant."

"Has she gone to the press?" Danny asked worriedly.

Stella shook her head. "Not yet. She hasn't threatened to, either, but I wouldn't put it out of your mind. It could ruin you, Danny."

Danny shrugged. "I realize that, I do, but I know I didn't do it. That's enough for me."

Stella watched him worriedly. "That may not be enough for the rest of the world."

"There's somethin' pretty crazy goin' on," Danny said, fiddling with the edge of his pink gauze.

"I know," Stella said, squinting at the door Lucinda had vacated. "Something doesn't fit. I'm going to go over some of Lucinda's records, see what I can find."

* * *

"Come on, Lindsay, it's just for a second," Eric pleaded, dragging Lindsay up the subway steps. She looked around nervously, Celia cuddled against her chest. She wrapped her arms around the baby, who was in the sling, and followed Eric up the steps of the run down building. There were few windows that weren't broken, and a toothless man was sitting on the front steps, hiding one of his legs to pretend to be handicapped, and rocking back and forth while moaning.

Lindsay kept her hand on the back of Celia's head as she hurried up to Eric's side, as she was lagging behind. "Eric?" she whispered, "This is kind of a bad place for the baby to be."

Eric turned to her with his infectious smile and wiped a bit of sweat off of his forehead. "It's just like five seconds, Lindsay, and then we can go and see the movie." He took in a deep breath as he jogged up the stairs past the moaning man, huffing and puffing as he reached the top. Lindsay noticed that his hand was shaking slightly.

"How about we just go back to the apartment?" She suggested, easily walking up the steps to stand beside him, "We can order some pizza, watch a movie at home."

"I _said_ I need to do this," Eric snapped.

Lindsay was taken aback, and stared wide-eyed at Eric as he slipped back into his usual, happy smile.

"Sorry," he laughed breathlessly, "I just really have to do this."

"Eric, I'm going to call Danny," Lindsay said quietly, "And I'll ask him to pick Celia and I up. You can come with us, if you want –"

"What the fuck, Lindsay?" Eric barked.

Lindsay pulled out her phone and started dialing. She'd just pressed 'send' when Eric slapped the phone away from her hand angrily.

"You don't even care about me anymore, Lindsay!" he shouted, "You just care about _him_!"

Lindsay stared at Eric, her gaze steely. Eric blinked, realized what he was doing, and took a step back. "I…" he gulped, "I'm just going upstairs." He turned and jogged over to the stairwell on the side of the building.

Lindsay picked up the phone. It was silent, yet she could see that Danny had been listening from the ticking seconds on the time the call had been active.

"Danny?" she asked quietly.

"_Just tell me where you are," _he said soothingly.

"I'm … we got off at 144th street, but I don't know the train we were on or the cross street," she said, her voice rising a little in panic.

"_I'll find you."_

* * *

Danny pulled the car up to the curb and got out quickly. He jogged into the building in front of him, clicking the lock button on his keys. He hurried up the steps to the building and went inside, his movements suddenly slow and cautious in case of trouble. "Lindsay?" he called into the echoing room.

"Here," she said, struggling to her feet. She was on the floor on the adjacent wall, holding Celia in her arms. Danny walked over to her and pulled her to her feet. He checked her up and down quickly and wrapped his arm low around her waist.

"Let's get out of here," he said, leading her out of the building as he brushed some dirt and dust off of her gray jacket.

"What about Eric?" Lindsay asked, glancing behind her as Danny hurried her out of the building.

"He'll be fine. He got here, didn't he?" Danny said, hiding his anger for Lindsay's brother in a cool, calm tone. "Did he hurt you at all?"

"No, of course not," Lindsay said as Danny opened the door for her. He helped her into the seat, took Celia from her arms, and shut the door. He unlocked the back door and bent in to hook Celia into her car seat, his eyes flicking up to the dark window of the opposite side of the seat to see the reflection behind him. He wasn't about to let his guard down in a place like this.

He shut Celia's door and locked it, then jogged over to the driver's side. He got in and started the car quickly, then pulled away from the curb and onto the street.

"Are you sure he didn't hurt you?" Danny asked, picking up Lindsay's phone from her hand and inspecting the long, spidery crack that now ran down the middle of it.

"He got mad, but that's it. He's my brother, Danny – he'd never hurt me," she said firmly.

"He took you here," Danny snapped, waving his hand at the dilapidated buildings lining the sides of the street. His eyes flicked to the rear view mirror to look at Celia.

"He didn't realize –"

"He knew exactly where he was going, Lindsay," Danny growled, "And he dragged you along with him."

"I had a choice, Danny. He's my little brother, and I wanted to protect him."

"And he shouldn't have put you in that situation," Danny said, his voice rising in volume and intensity, "Just because he can't sit long enough unless he has his next fix at hand doesn't mean he has to drag you around with him to –"

"Would you just stop?" Lindsay said, her hand shaking. She rested her elbow on the side of the door, then set her chin in her upturned hand. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she blinked them away.

Danny quieted, and focused instead on getting out of the run-down neighborhood and back to his home. He kept a close eye on Celia in the rear view mirror, and another on Lindsay in the seat next to him.

When he pulled up to the front of his building, his hand hesitated on the key before turning the car off. "Lindsay …" he said quietly, "I know you did what you thought was right. But please don't take Celia to somewhere like that. And if you're going to go there, for whatever reason, just call me. Tell me where you'll be, and I'll go _with_ you."

"Why would I go back?" Lindsay asked.

Danny shrugged. "If you have to play the older sister. I don't know. I don't care. Just … for my sake. Tell me first."

Lindsay nodded. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Danny smiled and reached over the seat to her. He slipped his hand over her cheek and kissed her gently. "It's OK," he said, and got out of the car.

When they had arrived at the apartment and Danny had set Celia in her crib for a nap, he walked out into the living room to find Lindsay nervously dialing a number on his landline.

"He'll be fine, Linds," Danny assured her.

"I don't know that," she said anxiously, "I need to at least see if he's OK."

"He's OK."

She shook her head and hung up. She picked up the phone and tried again. When her second and third call failed, she hung up and turned to Danny. "Where are the car keys?" she asked.

"Why? You're not seriously going to go and get him."

"I _have_ to," she said.

Danny paused for a minute, wondering if he could convince her to change her mind. Finally realizing that she wasn't going to, he stood up. "I'll go and get him. I'll call you when we're on our way back."

"Danny, you don't have to do that –"

"Yeah, I do," he said simply, "You want to know he's OK, and I want to know _you're_ OK, so I'm going to go. I'll be quick."

Lindsay smiled and kissed him.

"Don't be thanking me too early," Danny warned.

Lindsay nodded and realized that Eric was probably not on Danny's good list. She watched him leave the apartment quickly, leaving a quick nod to the lock, indicating that he wanted her to lock the door behind him.

She obliged once he'd walked out, snapping the lock on the door once she was sure it was shut tightly.

--

Eric jogged down the steps of the building, looking left and right. He was worried that Lindsay might not have left. Once, when they were children, she spent two hours waiting for him on the bridge by the stream near their house, in the dark and the cold, because he'd asked her to wait for him while he caught frogs down near the water. He'd long since gone home, assuming that she'd done the same, before she had been found by their father.

"Linds?" he called out to the empty building. He glanced down at the man who was still moaning and clutching his leg by the entrance of the building.

He shrugged, assuming she'd left, and headed out the doors of the building.

"I could arrest you," Danny said, watching Eric. He was leaning on the silver SUV, arms crossed in front of him.

"Hey, Danny!" Eric chirped. He shoved his hand in his pocket and closed it around the small bag there, just in case. He jogged over to the SUV. "Is Lindsay in the –"

Before Eric knew what was happening, Danny grabbed him by his shirt, spun him towards the car, and jabbed his arm right up under Eric's chin, pressing on his windpipe. The pink gauze on Danny's fingers seemed to be mocking Eric as he struggled for breath.

"Now, look," Danny said calmly, "I'm sure you're a nice guy. Or you were, so Lindsay told me, before the drugs. But really, I couldn't give a shit if you were Mother Theresa right now, because if you ever, ever put _my_ daughter and _my_ girlfriend in danger like that ever again, I will cut off every limb of your body and throw you in the Hudson. Am I understood?"

Eric gasped in the hold Danny had him in. The taller and much stronger man was holding him to the car with his weight. He managed a nod, and Danny broke away. Without a word, Danny walked to the other side of the car, climbed in, and waited for Eric to enter.

The ride was completely silent. Danny drove Eric to Fred Monroe's apartment. Once he pulled up to the curb, he tossed his cell phone at Eric and instructed him to call Lindsay with short, clipped words.

He waited for Eric to trade pleasantries with Lindsay, then chat briefly about how Eric was going to be staying with Uncle Fred for the remainder of his time.

Eric was about to hang up the phone when Danny shot him a glare.

Eric, understanding almost immediately, said, "Wait, and Lindsay?" to the phone.

Danny watched intently, his gaze locked on Eric's.

"I'm sorry for what happened today," Eric said. He listened to Lindsay's brushing off of the apology, then said, "I love you. See you soon." He hung up and handed the phone back to Danny. He waited nervously for some cue of Danny's.

"Out," Danny said with a nod towards the door.

Eric got out quickly, shutting the door behind him and rushing up the steps of the apartment like a kid racing from the steps of school.

* * *

Celia had managed to get a reasonable crawl going. She was able to squirm and wiggle her way across the floor, her knees slipping along the floor as she jerked them in a forward direction.

"She's gettin' good at this," Danny said as he crawled behind her on his hands and knees, playing a game of chase while Lindsay cooked dinner.

"Crawling?" Lindsay asked absentmindedly as she peeled a potato into the sink. She glanced behind her to see Danny nearly overtake Celia, who squealed and squirmed away from him. She turned back to the sink with a smile.

Danny tugged Celia back from the edge of a table for fear that she hurt herself, and guided her towards the center of the room. He'd moved the coffee table to the side so that her crawling area was more or less unobstructed.

He followed her out to the center of the room, where her feet slipped out from under her and her lower body fell to the ground. She stayed still for a moment, stunned, then pulled her legs back up under her and kicked and squirmed her way forwards.

Danny chuckled and caught up with her in an easy lean forwards. He placed his hands on her waist and rolled onto his back, holding her above him.

She shrieked happily, finding that her legs and arms were free in the air. She kicked her tiny feet and brought her hands down to Danny's thumbs, which were securely set on her tiny stomach.

"Hey, Montana," Danny called, "Check out what I found out the other day."

Lindsay turned, the potato peeler in one hand. She watched as Danny slowly bent his elbows, tipping Celia towards his head, nose first. She laughed loudly and flapped her arms as Danny brought her face down to meet his. He let their noses touch, made a face, then brought her back up again.

"She loves it," Danny said.

Lindsay, laughing, returned to the potato peeling. "Is that what she was laughing about the other night when you put her to bed? She was an hour past her bedtime when you finally left her room."

"Yep," Danny said, tipping Celia's head once again to his nose.

She shrieked happily again, her feet furiously kicking the air.

"You like that?" Danny chuckled.

"Ah-ba!" Celia shrieked. She shoved her fist into her mouth and watched Danny with her wide blue eyes as he held her up in the air.

He slowly set her down, sitting her on his stomach. He marveled at how light she was: he could barely feel her weight, and it almost didn't affect his breathing. He reached a hand to her neck, in case she tipped backwards. In the beginning of her life, he was terrified of not supporting her neck enough. He was fear-struck each and every time he picked her up, fussing over supporting her.

"What do you think she'll do when she grows up?" Danny asked.

"I don't know," Lindsay laughed. They'd had this conversation before – multiple times, in fact. Danny loved imagining what Celia was going to do when she grew up.

"Well, college, obviously. But none of those crappy colleges."

"What crappy colleges?" Lindsay asked, irked. She was fiercely protective of her Montana State alum status. However, she would take no offense if Celia didn't follow in her footsteps.

"I mean she's going to an ivy league. Something like that. Columbia, maybe. Harvard. Or even Brown. I don't know."

"Harvard?" Lindsay asked with a smirk.

"Sure, why not?" Danny said. Celia leaned back onto Danny's hand as she set her feet out in front of her. She reached down and grabbed her foot, trying to pull it up to her mouth. "And graduate school. I'm thinkin' maybe she could get a Ph.D."

"What if she doesn't want it?" Lindsay asked.

"Who doesn't want a PhD?" Danny snorted. "OK, fine. She can get an M.D."

"A doctor?" Lindsay asked, slicing up the potatoes and dropping them into the water in the pot on the stove.

"Yeah. How's that sound, you wanna be a doctor, CC?" Danny asked Celia.

"CC?" Lindsay laughed, "What's that?"

"Celia Christine," Danny said, "I dunno, I was just messin' around."

"Does she absolutely need a nickname?" Lindsay asked.

"No," Danny admitted, "But I get bored. I like variation. You're Lindsay, Linds, Montana, muffin –"

Lindsay laughed loudly, "You have never, ever called me muffin!"

"Not to your face," Danny muttered, loud enough so she could hear.

Lindsay laughed and checked on the boiling water that held the potatoes. She saw that the peas were ready and moved them from the flame.

"You know what?" Danny asked.

"What?"

"I don't like CC. Too hard to say."

"Well then what are you going to call her?"

"How about Coco?" Danny asked, watching Celia tip backwards against his bent legs as she tried to stuff her foot in her mouth.

"Why Coco?" Lindsay asked.

"It's fun to say, I guess. And I dunno, you use that coconut scented baby shampoo sometimes, so she smells like a Coco."

Lindsay laughed "You're going to call her by her shampoo?"

"Yeah, you jealous, Vanilla?"

"Vanilla and Coco…" Lindsay snorted, "Sounds like a recipe, not a family."

"Well it's a family," Danny said. He sat up, pulling Celia to his chest, and scrambled to his feet. "We got a bottle somewhere? I'm gonna feed her."

"Check the fridge," Lindsay suggested.

Danny checked in the fridge while Celia grabbed and started to play with the dog tags around his neck. He shifted around the orange juice carton and a few other foods before sighing and closing the door. "There ain't any in there."

Lindsay turned around from the stove to look at him. She looked through the glass of the fridge, squinting, trying to see if he was wrong. "Crap," she muttered.

"I'll take over dinner," Danny said, handing Celia to Lindsay, "You feed her."

"Are you sure?" Lindsay asked with a small smile, "You sure you don't want to breastfeed while I make dinner?"

"Wiseass," Danny muttered, giving her a quick smack to her ass as she walked over to the couch.

She giggled and squealed. She walked over to the couch and sat down, unbuttoning her shirt while she set Celia on the couch beside her. "We should try some of the baby cereal, too," Lindsay said, "Before she goes to bed."

"What baby cereal?" Danny asked as he chopped up the tomatoes for the salad.

"The mushy stuff. It's like oatmeal but gooier," Lindsay said absentmindedly. She turned back to look at Danny's kitchen. "And we're probably going to need to get the high chair from my place. You don't have one."

Danny looked around his kitchen, half expecting to see a high chair sitting in the corner. "I guess I forgot to get one," he said. "I'll run by your place after work tomorrow and pick it up. But I don't think we have any of that mushy stuff."

Lindsay frowned, thinking. "It's fine. We don't have to give it to her tonight."

"No, I'll go and get some. What does it look like?"

"We don't need it. Do you have applesauce? We could give her a spoonful of that," Lindsay suggested.

Danny checked in his fridge, shoving assorted things out of the way although he knew there was nothing that remotely resembled applesauce in there. "I can run to the store and pick this stuff up," he suggested. He turned back to the dinner and jabbed a fork into one of the potatoes in the boiling water. It was ready, so he flicked off the stove, poured the water into the sink, and started to mash them with the mixer.

"You know," he said, "This stuff will get a lot easier once you move in."

"What will get easier?" Lindsay asked, watching Celia close her little hand around the side of Lindsay's bra.

"You know, the baby toys and chairs and stuff. If anything, we'll have two of most stuff."

Lindsay laughed. She watched Celia nurse for a moment. "What is wrong with the right one?" she whispered to the baby, "Do you just not want to share both equally?"

Celia stopped nursing and watched Celia with big blue eyes.

Lindsay giggled. "Just keep eating. It's fine. It's not like I feel uneven or anything," she said sarcastically.

Celia turned back to nursing.

Lindsay smiled down at the little baby, using a free hand to brush the soft brown curl from the middle of Celia's forehead. She looked back at Danny, who was tasting a bit of mashed potatoes with a finger while he checked on the chicken in the oven.

She realized that they'd slipped into comfort, and into a life that neither had ever expected to love so much.


	21. Chapter 21

**Hey guys: sorry it took me so long. I'm in midterms week right now, and they're actually impossible. So bear with me, because this chapter is a little bit ... um ... disjointed, I guess you could call it.

* * *

**

"Hey, Louie," Danny said quietly. He reached down and rested his hand on his brother's still, limp arm.

Danny looked up at Lindsay, who was standing across the bed from him. She smiled at him encouragingly.

"Happy birthday," Danny said to the still body on the bed. Celia, in Danny's arms, mumbled something in baby gibberish and wrapped her little hand around the chain around Danny's neck, pulling on it until Danny tugged his dog tags out of his shirt and handed them to her.

She shrieked excitedly.

"There's, uh, someone I want you to meet, Louie," Danny said. He lifted Celia off of his waist with both hands and set her on the bed so that her tiny feet hit the sheets. He held her in a standing position.

"Louie, this is Celia. Your niece. Celia, this is your uncle Louie."

Celia gave a little squeal and tried to grab the IV at the top of Louie's hand, fighting Danny's hands around her stomach. Danny moved her a little higher on the bed so that it was out of sight and out of reach.

"You wanna say hi, Celia?" Danny asked, pulling the white knit hat off of Celia's head and stuffing it into his pocket. The room was pleasantly warm, although, outside, it was freezing.

Celia, with Danny's hands still around her waist, leaned forwards and rested her hands on Louie's shoulder, on the starchy white hospital gown. She grabbed onto it, and looked up at Louie's face. "Ah!" she said, reaching out her hand to touch him.

Danny smiled as he watched her. He tried to swallow the tears as he saw how pale and how quiet Louie was. Louie had always joked about Danny having kids, telling him with a grin that the world needed no more Danny Messers, and that it was his duty to the human race to avoid having children. But one night when Danny returned home after his third year of college, he and Louie downed a few beers and had talked about the future. Louie had remarked that he always figured that one day he'd come to visit Danny and some cute little wife and a few kids. He'd told his little brother that he was better than anyone in their neighborhood, and that, one day, he'd have a beautiful family to show for it.

"You remember last time I told you about Lindsay?" Danny asked his brother's quiet body, reaching for Lindsay's hand across the bed. Lindsay slipped her hand into his and smiled as he placed it on Louie's. "We're getting married. Well, we will. She hasn't said yes yet," Danny smirked as he glanced up at Lindsay, "But she will."

Lindsay smiled at him and nodded.

The three were silent for a minute, Celia exploring the expanse of Louie's bed. Finally, Danny straightened and lifted Celia up off of the bed. He set her on his hip and turned to Lindsay.

"Do you want a minute alone with him?" Lindsay asked.

Danny nodded.

Lindsay held her arms out for Celia, took the baby, and left the room with a wave to Louie. "I'll see you next time, Louie," she said, then helped Celia wave.

They went to sit outside the room, Lindsay holding Celia on her lap as she entertained the baby. She was in the middle of tickling Celia when Danny stepped out of the hospital room, wiping his eyes and shoving his hands in his pockets.

Lindsay looked up and struggled to her feet while holding Celia and the baby bag. Danny helped her by slinging the baby bag over his shoulder and giving her a hand.

Lindsay hugged him, holding Celia to her side. She squeezed his waist tightly and let him rest his chin on her head. Finally, taking a deep breath, he backed away and smiled down at her.

"Thanks for coming," he said.

"Sure," she smiled.

* * *

Lindsay hastily tied her hair into two pigtails, then climbed into the dumpster. She hit the layer of trash with a thud, which echoed up and out of the metal container. She pulled her flashlight from her pocket and clicked it on.

She gave a start at the dead body, sprawled on the trash at the far end of the colossal dumpster. She glanced up at the storm clouds above her, framed by two large brick buildings.

"It's going to start snowing soon!" she called out of the dumpster.

Danny's head appeared over the edge of the dumpster as he climbed to the top rung of the ladder. He moved the beam of his flashlight to Lindsay's head, nearly two feet below him in the dumpster. "Oh, yeah? What, you feel it in your _bones_, Montana?"

"Can't you taste it?" she asked with a giggle, and waded over to the dead woman's body at the edge of the container. She squatted down next to it and inspected her thoroughly with her flashlight beam. "We're going to need to get Sid down here. I don't think we can move her without disrupting the wound pattern."

"A'right, I'll go find him," Danny said. "Don't go anywhere!" he called out jubilantly as he stepped down the ladder on the side of the half-full dumpster.

Once Sid arrived, the three of them all inspected the dead body, photographing and cataloguing evidence until they lifted the body onto a stretcher and hoisted it out of the bin.

Loaded with large boxes of evidence bags, Lindsay and Danny headed towards the truck. Danny somehow managed to pop the trunk with the button on his keys. They shoved the boxes up against the back row of seats and backed away.

"Hey, yo, coppers!" they heard as Danny slammed the trunk down. They turned. Lindsay was halfway through stripping off her navy blue CSI jumpsuit, revealing her thin pink t-shirt and sweats. Danny had removed his back at the dumpster.

"Yeah?" Danny asked warily, watching the stumbling, clearly drunk Waste Management worker meander his way over to them.

"You takin' statements or some shit?" the guy asked.

"Why, you see somethin'?" Danny shot back, his gruff accent mirroring the man's tone.

"I mighta," the drunk man responded, eyeing Lindsay. He winked.

Lindsay raised one eyebrow dubiously, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yesterday me and Jimmy back there was passin' by here to get the cans in this alley, but some guy paid him twenty bucks to move onto the next street, ignore this one," the man said.

"When was this?" Danny asked, pulling out his notepad. He scribbled down what the man was saying with a pen he found in his pocket.

"Noon," the guy said, glancing at Lindsay again. "How come you don't talk, baby?"

Lindsay frowned and narrowed her eyes at him. "Please focus on your statement, sir," she said coolly.

"You look pretty cute. You got a boyfriend?" The guy asked.

"Yes," Lindsay said simply. Danny hid his smile within a cough.

"Can I get your name?" Danny asked.

"Vinny Parker," the guy grunted, not removing his gaze from Lindsay. "You some kinda cowgirl with them pigtails?" he snorted at her, "Or just a blowjob with handlebars?"

Danny gripped his pen hard to release the intense anger, and saw red. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak.

Lindsay beat him to it. "Do you find that funny, Mr. Parker?" Lindsay snapped, "Or do you really think you're going to get me to like you with a crude statement like that?"

"I was just –" Vinny stammered.

"Just what?" Lindsay taunted, "Playing around? Because the next time you do it, how about you take off that wedding ring on your finger, or at least try to say something that doesn't make a girl want to vomit."

Vinny blinked.

Lindsay turned on her heel and headed to the car. She slipped into the passenger's seat primly.

Danny quickly got Vinny's phone number for reference later on in the case, arranged a meeting with a sketch artist, and waved over a uniform to get the full statement. Danny then hustled over to the car, pulled open the driver's side door, and found Lindsay angrily chewing on a bar of chocolate.

"That was amazing," he said with a grin. He shut the door behind him and started the car. "You're fucking amazing."

"I hate guys like that," she huffed, "Stupid cocky jerks." She bit down hard on her chocolate bar. "Montana is full of them. Stupid cocky men trying to prove something to their friends."

"You … ah … you meet a lot of guys like that back home?" Danny asked conversationally. He pulled out onto the street.

Lindsay shrugged, reaching over to fiddle with the radio. "Some." She angrily bit another bite off of the chocolate bar.

"We could make this a big deal, if you wanted," Danny offered, "I mean, we could get him for sexual harassment, or I could even just go back there and tune him up a little –"

"No," Lindsay said, "It's not worth it. Just forget about it." She tugged the ponytails out of her hair and set them in the cup holders in between the seats. She threaded her fingers through her hair, combing it out to its normal appearance.

"You took 'em out?" Danny said, "I thought you looked cute."

She smiled, leaned over the cup holders, and kissed his cheek. "I've got to change back at the lab," she said, eyeing her jeans. They had a small, unidentifiable gray stain over the right knee. "I should take a shower, too."

"Oh, yeah?" Danny asked, his interest piqued, "You want some help with that?"

* * *

"Where were you last Thursday, Mr. Grey?" Danny asked, slapping a case file down on the interrogation room desk. "And if you lie to me again, I'm not gonna be happy about it."

"I was busy," Alex Grey said with a smirk. The kid had been picked up in Queens by Flack and Danny earlier that day, and Danny grew more and more annoyed with him with each word that came out of the kid's mouth.

"Yeah? Busy how?" Danny asked. He crossed his arms and stared straight at Joseph with his steely blue eyes.

Alex shrugged and tipped his chair back, holding himself up with the balls of his feet. He glared right back at Danny, interrupted only when he heard the creak as the door to the room swept open, and saw a small, thin brunette with a pixie haircut step into the room with a file in her hand. His eyes traveled down her body, from the soft pink top to the gray dress pants that clung to her in all the right places.

"Come here for me?" Alex asked, a smile spreading like greasy butter on his face.

"In your dreams," she said in a clipped tone, and handed Danny the file. He took it with a nod and read it over before looking up at Alex with a smirk.

"Looks like I don't need you to answer that question, Mr. Grey," Danny said, smacking the paper on the table and resting his hand on it confidently. "I know where you were Thursday night. Your DNA was found on the grill of Melissa Meyer's oven. You burn yourself?"

Alex ignored him, choosing instead to look at Lindsay, who was hovering by the door. "How long you here for?" he asked her with a grin.

"Answer the question, Mr. Grey," Lindsay said.

"And while you're at it, explain why we found your semen on Melissa's body when you claim you barely knew the girl," Danny said, straightening up from the table and setting his hands on his hips.

"She was into me, man, I had to give her somethin'. You know, satisfy her appetite. Girls dig that." He gave a wink to Lindsay and attempted to get up from his seat.

"Sit," Danny snapped.

"I was just adjusting my cuffs, man," Alex said, nodding at his cuffed hands, flat on the table.

Danny wanted to tell Lindsay to get out while he worked over Alex for a confession, but he knew she'd probably kill him.

Lindsay, however, clearly had plans of her own as she nudged Danny to the side and leaned on the table with her hip, smiling at Alex, the dimple in her cheek evident.

"Yeah, Detective Messer, calm down. I'm interested in Alex's moves. Tell me, Alex, what did she want?" Her voice was throaty and soft, and Alex melted quickly.

He smirked at Lindsay and leaned back in his chair, shoving a foot out in front of him. "She was actin' all high and mighty, like she didn't want any. But I knew better. Some guys just know what chicks like her want."

"What did you do then?" Lindsay asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

"Showed her what a real man is like," Alex said, "You could learn too, baby."

"But how?" Lindsay asked. If she'd had an apple and a little Swedish milkmaid costume on, Danny thought the image might be complete. She looked like she'd never even heard of men before, and was looking to Alex to tell her all about them.

"I start takin' off her shirt, like I know she wants," Alex said with a cocky smirk, "but she gets pissed about it, or somethin' – shoves me back at her oven. Hurt like a bitch. So then I see she wants it rough, and I bring her to the bedroom and tie her up, face down." He winked at Lindsay. "She got a kick outta that, started movin' around and really workin' the restraints. So I climb on top of her and show her what a real man is like."

Lindsay nodded with her wide eyes, blinked, and the little Swedish milkmaid look was gone from her eyes. She stood up. "Mr. Grey, you're under arrest for the rape of Melissa Meyer."

"What?" Alex said with a snort. "She was askin' for it!"

"No," Lindsay said in her clipped, professional tone, "She wasn't." She collected the papers on the desk, arranging them into a neat little pile, and, with a bright grin to Alex Grey, she left.

"Get up," Danny said, disgust evident in his tone.

"Naw, that wasn't fair!" Alex yelled. He stomped to his feet.

"Yeah, it was. Now get up."

"That little bitch just –"

"HEY!" Danny roared, "Shut your mouth!"

Alex glared at him but stopped talking. Danny grabbed his arm and shoved him out of the room, handing him off to an officer at the door. "Book him," he said with one last glare to Alex.

The officer nodded and took Alex down through the bullpen. Danny grinned, finally rid of the guy. He glanced around to his left, searching for Lindsay. Suddenly, as he turned his head to follow Alex through the messy, crowded room ahead of him, he saw that Lindsay was standing in the middle of the room, next to Flack's desk, showing him something on one of the papers.

And Alex was being led right towards her, to the other side of the room.

Panic gripped Danny as he saw a slow smirk spread across Alex's face. Danny jogged down the steps, heading towards the officer, hoping to at least give Lindsay a heads up.

He saw Alex led by the desk, and saw the glint of the handcuffs as Alex broke quickly from the officer's grasp and moved towards Lindsay.

To Danny's surprise, Lindsay whipped around just as Alex's shoulder touched hers, and neatly kneed him in the groin.

Alex collapsed to the ground, bending over with a loud groan, Flack pointing a gun at his head above him.

Lindsay's eyes moved up to catch Danny's, and she saw that he had a massive grin on his face as he moved towards her. He caught her hand as he reached her and squeezed it. "Jesus, Montana," he chuckled, "Nice moves."

She shrugged and allowed him to lead her out of the bullpen, leaving a laughing Flack and a pained Alex behind them.

* * *

"So," Danny said as Lindsay took a bite out of the chocolate cupcake with strawberry frosting they'd just bought, "I was thinkin' we could start moving some of your stuff into my place."

Lindsay nodded and licked a bit of the pink frosting from where it had stuck to her lip. Danny watched her pink tongue move along her pouty lip, and couldn't resist moving the hand holding the cupcake out of the way and bending in to give her a lingering, passionate kiss, tasting chocolate and strawberry in her mouth. She responded eagerly, wrapping one arm around his neck.

He pulled away with a soft sigh and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I think that's a good idea," Lindsay said, still wrapped in his arms, and took another bite of the cupcake.

"I was thinkin' since you've got so much crap – ow," he muttered as Lindsay lightly kicked his shin, " - that we could start moving some of your clothes, maybe some of Celia's toys, and stuff like that. I could grab some cardboard boxes from somewhere, we could start packing up."

"Danny," Lindsay said, rolling her eyes and swallowing a bite of the cupcake, "I'm not moving into your place until the end of the month. I'm not living around cardboard boxes for the next two weeks."

"A'right, a'right. So watching you interrogate that guy reminded me of something."

"Oh, yeah?" she asked, taking another bite of the cupcake.

"I'm really in love with you. Will you marry me?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Not yet," she said, her voice brimming with warmth and hope despite its meaning.

"Just checking in," Danny said, and pulled her hand towards his mouth, where, one by one, he popped her index, middle, ring, and pinkie fingers into his mouth, and sucked the strawberry frosting off of each. With each gentle suck and flick of his tongue, he earned a slight intake of breath, and, on the pinkie, a groan. Which, of course, meant that he had to kiss her again.

Once they broke away and continued walking to the crime lab, Danny let his arm travel to her waist, and wrapped it around her while she fed him the occasional bite of cupcake.

"Hey, Danny?" Lindsay asked, balling up the cupcake holder and tossing it into a trashcan to her left.

"Hmm."

"Can we go out next Saturday? Your mother said she'd take Celia."

"Yeah, definitely. Can she take Celia for the whole night, you think?" Danny asked with a smirk, bending down and kissing the spot behind Lindsay's ear.

Lindsay giggled and scrunched her shoulders up to her ears, nudging him away from her ears. "I don't want her spending a night away from us yet."

"You're right – she's a little young," Danny said. "Looks like we'll just have to keep you quiet somehow." He smirked. "I'm thinkin' … if you turn your head into the pillow, kinda like this," he tilted her chin towards his shoulder with one finger, "Or I do this," he kissed her with a deep intake of breath.

She stopped walking and turned into him, pressing his body up against the wall of a nearby building, standing on her tiptoes to reach his mouth.

* * *

"And _that's _how you make a good chicken! Boom!" Danny shouted to the apartment, Celia on her baby rocking chair on the counter beside him, amidst piles of pots, pans, strainers, potato skins, and a slew of spices.

Lindsay came wandering into the kitchen, drying her hair with a small towel. She glanced down at the cooking sheet, which held a golden, steaming chicken. She grinned and pulled Celia off of the baby rocker and set her on her hip, making sure the towel around her chest didn't drop to the floor.

"So are we staying in tonight?" she asked with a grin.

"Yeah," he said, "I got reservations Saturday night though. A friend of mine's place. You'll love it."

Celia reached out for Danny with a little grunt, mesmerized by the way his dog tags caught the light, and Danny lifted her out of Lindsay's arms.

"Now _you_, Montana," Danny said as he leaned in towards her for a kiss, "need to change for dinner."

"I do?" she asked with a giggle as he kissed her softly.

"Yeah. I got an idea. Just take this off," he said, tugging on the edge of the towel. Lindsay gasped and slapped a hand to the towel to stop it from dropping to the floor.

"Don't," she warned, "It'll fall."

"Now would that really be so bad?" Danny asked with a smirk.

"Oh you shush," she laughed, and went back into her bedroom to change. Once she came out, wearing a gray sweater and jeans, she saw that Danny had pulled over the high chair to the table and was sitting Celia in the seat.

"Thank God you remembered to go and get that today," Lindsay remarked.

"I picked up some of your stuff, too. I got some baby toys and another bag of your clothes. Did you see the drawers I cleaned out for you?"

She nodded. "I started putting some stuff away," she smiled, and sat down next to Celia.

"I thought we could all eat together," Danny suggested. "I got some of that nasty baby cereal stuff for Celia to eat once she's finished her bottle. She's almost got the hang of holding it for herself."

"Oh, really?" Lindsay asked, watching Danny cut off a piece of chicken for her. He set it on her plate and started cutting one off for himself.

"Yeah," Danny said, "I was just there in case she dropped it. She had it for a pretty long time before it almost fell."

Lindsay smiled and tugged on one of Celia's feet, tickling the bottom.

Celia shrieked out a laugh and kicked her feet, flapping her arms up and down in excitement.

"You like that, baby?" Lindsay laughed, and kissed Celia's little feet.

Danny smiled at her and sat down on his seat, ruffling Celia's hair as he did so. "Did you ever think we'd get here?" he asked with a laugh.

Lindsay looked at him and started to cut her chicken. "I always sort of suspected we would," she said, "You're pretty insistent."

Danny laughed and attempted to feed Celia a bit of the mushy baby cereal. She closed her mouth around the spoon and pushed Danny's hand away to remove the spoon.

"I'm glad we did, though," Lindsay murmured, "Get here, I mean."

"Me, too," Danny smiled back.

* * *

"Danny?" Lindsay squeaked over the phone. She was back at her place, Celia sobbing on her lap, attempting to pack nearly two days later.

"_What's wrong?" _he asked.

"I need some help with Celia," she said. It was hard to admit to herself, of course, and she attributed that to the fact that she'd been easing herself into a life with Danny and hadn't been raising her daughter on her own anymore.

Danny assured her that he'd be right there, and, in ten minutes, he was knocking at her door.

She answered it with a crying Celia set on her hip, a dishtowel thrown over her shoulder, and her sleeves rolled up. Danny immediately noted the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her hair was slipping from the high ponytail she wore.

He reached out his arms and took the crying baby from her, patting Celia's back and shushing her as he followed Lindsay into the apartment. "What's going on?" he asked.

Lindsay turned to him, her eyes tearing up. "I'm so tired," she said, nearly slurring her words, "I haven't slept since I was on shift yesterday, she won't stop screaming, and I need a shower so bad, Danny …"

He nodded, taking in the scene before him. There were boxes lying around the apartment, sitting on the chairs, on the couch, and the counter in the kitchen. A few empty bottles adorned the sink, and there was the soft sound of the CD player on her kitchen counter, crooning baby lullabies.

"Well, go and sleep, or take a bath, or go relax. I'll just take care of Celia, and then I'll –"

"She hasn't eaten," Lindsay said, her eyelids drooping, "She won't breastfeed and I don't know why and Hawkes said she might not be hungry but I just don't want to wake up and _feed_ her anymore, Danny, I –"

"When was the last time she ate?" Danny asked.

"Five hours ago," Lindsay said worriedly, rubbing her eyes.

"Then I'll get her to eat something. Is there milk in the fridge?"

Lindsay nodded.

"Then I'll go and get some of that. Go, relax." He pushed her towards the bathroom and turned to the kitchen. He cleared off a place amidst all the boxes and sat her down on the counter, holding her with one steady hand while he leaned to the fridge, opened it, and pulled out a bottle. He warmed it up in a saucepan over the stove, then tested it before handing it to Celia. She took it happily, holding it with her hands all on her own.

Danny grinned and kissed her before lifting her up and cradling her in his arms.

He carried her to the nursery, where he sat in the rocking chair and waited until she was done before burping her expertly. He set her on his hip and walked into the bathroom to see how Lindsay was doing.

"Linds?" he asked, "How's it goin'?"

She mumbled something from the bathtub. He looked in the tub to see her, absolutely exhausted and sprawled in a nearly overflowing tub. He turned off the water and smoothed back her hair.

"I'm gonna get Coco into some pajamas, then I'll come back in here and help you get to bed, OK?"

"Don't leave," she murmured.

"I'll stay the night, don't worry," he said with a grin, "And tomorrow I'll help you pack some of this shit up, and we'll get it over to my place."

He returned to the bathroom nearly an hour later, and unplugged the tub. He pulled her out of it and wrapped her in a towel before carrying her to the bedroom. She fell asleep on the way over, and he dressed her as best he could in a pair of his boxers that he found in her dresser, deeming her panties too difficult to put on her, and a large t-shirt. He dried her hair and climbed into bed with her, cuddling her close to his body.

Before he fell asleep, he heard her murmur, "I don't think I can raise her alone anymore," before her eyes closed permanently.

"I wouldn't want you to," he responded in a whisper, before joining her in sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

**Prplerayne helped me with this chapter, so thanks to her!**

**Little note: I wrote this while babysitting, so that I would not fall asleep at a strange house and have to be woken up by the parents. Therefore, attribute all errors to my exhaustion.**

**Also, this is REALLY LONG.**

* * *

"It's that first pregnancy that's the most magical," Melissa Meyer's mother sobbed, "I had three children, and every one was so … amazing … but that first pregnancy …" She lost the ability to speak again as sobs consumed her, and she bent over in the chair with a cry.

Danny watched her, resting his hand on her back awkwardly and trying to soothe her. He was regretting his decision to take the mother's statement before Lindsay ever saw her, hoping to prevent some stress for his girlfriend.

Veronica Meyer lifted her tearstained face and wiped her cheeks. "I tried to stop her from hanging out with those people, when she started dating Corey," she said mournfully, "I did. I grounded her; I yelled at her, I did everything. And now … one of them raped her?" she asked turning to Danny, "And she's _dead_?"

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Meyer," Danny said softly.

"I can't stop seeing her as my little baby girl. I just can't," Veronica Meyer sobbed, "I can't imagine her like this – in a dumpster in an alley, naked… I can't. She's my baby."

"I know," Danny said gently.

Veronica turned her head up to look at Danny. "Do you have children, Detective Messer?" she asked, sniffling.

He nodded. "A daughter. She's almost six months." He fiddled with the temporary splint on his finger, which had thankfully been wrapped in white gauze now.

"Then you understand," she said, "How you can't picture them dying –" Danny winced, "- And you can't picture them in pain because it just _hurts _to do that, it hurts too much."

Danny nodded.

"That first pregnancy," Veronica said quietly. She laughed. "There was so much _hope_."

* * *

Danny crept quietly into his apartment, and nearly tripped over a box. He moved it out of the way and walked to the end of the hallway, where he entered Celia's bedroom. He'd just come in from the cold outside, and the freezing air seemed to cling still to his jacket. He peered down into Celia's crib, where she was sleeping. She had one hand wrapped around a bar of her crib, the other thrown above her head. A pacifier was in her mouth, looking as though a plastic butterfly had landed under her nose.

Danny slowly removed her hand from the railing and lowered the side of the crib so he could bend down to kiss her goodnight.

He leaned in and smelled the baby powder, and the sweet watermelon smell of the baby soap Lindsay used. He squatted next to her crib, holding onto one of the posts for support, and reached out a hand to her. He smoothed down her soft little curls, brushing them back off of her forehead.

"Hi, baby," he whispered.

He watched her suck sleepily on the pacifier, slowing as Danny continued to brush her hair with his fingers.

"I missed you today," he said softly. He chuckled softly, "I miss you every day."

Celia's foot twitched, and she turned her head to the side, further into Danny's palm.

"You're gonna live so _long_, baby," he said, tearing up, "You are. I'll make sure of that. And no boyfriends. They just make trouble." He kissed her head again and rested his hand on her stomach, feeling it move up and down as she breathed. She was wearing her red and white striped onesie, which Danny had always thought made her look like a pudgy candy cane.

"Don't grow up," he asked, "Please just don't."

She snuffled and the pacifier slipped out of her mouth. Her eyes opened as she started to whimper, looking around for it. Danny picked it up and slid the pacifier back into her mouth.

She sighed contentedly and curled her hand around his pinkie finger, on the hand that was stroking her hair. Danny glanced up at the time, and frowned. He gently extracted her tiny fingers from his hand, and reluctantly stood and pulled up the side of the crib before walking into his bedroom.

He smiled as he saw Lindsay stretched out on top of the covers, the blanket billowing out around the imprint of her form, a magazine on her stomach. He kicked off his shoes and nudged them over to the closet, then crawled onto the bed, resting his body completely on top of her.

Lindsay's eyes opened, and she found herself face to face with a smirking Danny.

"Hi," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck. "What time is it?"

He started slowly kissing her neck, nipping at her earlobe. "Just go back to sleep," he chuckled.

"I can't _now,_" she sighed.

"Why not?" he asked with a slight grin.

"Danny …" she whimpered, "I have to get up at six tomorrow…"

"Uh huh," Danny mumbled, sucking on the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

"It's past midnight, Danny, I have less than six hours to sleep…" she begged.

"I'll be really quick," he promised with a smirk, getting up on his forearms on either side of her body, "And it'll help put you to sleep."

She laughed. "That's encouraging…"

"Seriously, it's a fact. If you, ya know …"

"Orgasm?" she asked curiously, watching him frown at the technical term.

"Yeah, that. It helps you go back to sleep," he whispered, sucking on her earlobe.

"Well, I'm not doing anything," she said sleepily, "You can just do what you want and I'll lie here."

"You're such a romantic," he snorted, rolling off of her.

"I'm not saying I didn't want it," she said, turning onto her side to snuggle into his body, "I just don't have the energy to _do_ anything."

"OK, so we'll sleep," Danny said a little grumpily.

"I'm sorry," she said tiredly.

"Don't be _sorry_," he chided, "So you don't feel like it. I'll get over it." In truth, all he'd wanted was reassurance – some sort of proof that she'd chosen him, and no one else. He needed to know that she was his, despite everything he'd done to her in the past.

"Just go to sleep," he said, wrapping an arm around her then trailing his fingers across her face and through her hair. He stroked her hair gently until her breathing deepened. He was sure that she was asleep until she spoke.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"For what?" he asked.

"For taking the mother for me," she muttered.

"Whatever," he said, "It's your thing. Everyone's got a thing."

Lindsay moved a little closer to him, nuzzling her face into his chest. She shivered as she adjusted to the warmth of his body. He used his free hand to pull the blankets up over her body, tucking them into her side. He turned to face her and pulled her closer into his arms.

"You want me to take your shift?" he asked, stroking her hair, "So you can sleep?"

"You just came off of a double," she murmured, "And this one is your second in three days."

"I don't mind. You need the rest," he told her.

"I'm fine. You need the rest more than I do," she chuckled, "It's fine. Just let me sleep, and I'll be fine."

"Sorry I woke you up," he said, and rubbed his thumb in circles on her temple until she fell asleep.

* * *

Danny jogged up the steps of the crime lab, only to be slammed into by Lindsay, who was on her phone, juggling her heavy, metal crime scene kit, the jacket thrown over her arm, all the while attempting to pull on one of her simple, black flat shoes.

"What the hell –" Danny asked, only to have Lindsay stop and put her hand over his mouth as she listened to the voice on the phone.

"And the 911 call came in from apartment 3B? You're absolutely sure?" she said to the receiver.

Danny pulled her heavy gray jacket from her arm and swept it around her. He tugged the kit from her hand and set it on the steps before helping her into the jacket. He buttoned it up, all the way to her chin, then pulled her hat a little farther down over her ears.

"Thanks so much, Adam," Lindsay said brightly to the phone, "I'll see you when I get back. Danny's coming with, so we'll be fine … Uh-huh, tell Flack." She ended the call and slid the phone into her pocket.

"Morning" Danny said with a grin, kissing her quickly. He picked up the kit. "So, where am I going?"

"We're going back to the alley where we found Melissa's body. A 911 call came from an apartment, about an hour or two after the garbage men were paid to avoid that alley," Lindsay said, walking towards the garage. "The operator asked what the emergency was, and someone on the other end said that there wasn't one, and hung up. A patrol car went past the building a little while later, and no one was around."

Danny nodded. "Did we get the name of the people who live in 3B?"

"The Mortons," Lindsay said.

Danny opened the passenger side door for her and she climbed into the car. He bent in and kissed her softly, then shut the door and headed over to the driver's side.

"So Celia is with your mom?" Lindsay asked as he turned on the car.

He nodded. "She's gonna run her over to your place tonight, and wait until Alexa comes over to babysit."

"Good," Lindsay said. She pulled out the case file and reviewed it quietly as they rode to the crime scene.

* * *

"Hey, kid, your mom talk to you about what happened right outside?" Danny asked, bouncing the basketball back to the ten-year-old kid. The kid bounced it back with a smile.

"Yeah," he said, "Said some girl died." The kid's sunny, bright smile faded and he shot the ball at the basket. It swished, the ball bouncing back until Danny swept it to the side and bounced it back to the little kid.

"So… you see anything'?" Danny asked, watching the little kid score another basket.

"Sorta," the kid said, watching the ball bounce back to him.

Danny intercepted it and dribbled it a little bit. "So you sorta saw somethin'?" Danny asked, "Whassat mean, sorta? You look out your window at the wrong moment?"

The kid stared transfixed at the ball, which moved up and down as Danny dribbled it.

"What did you see, Gerry?" Danny asked. He glanced over at the building, three stories up, where Lindsay was talking to the little boy's mother over coffee.

"You promise you won't tell anyone?" Gerry asked, looking up at Danny.

"I can't promise that," Danny said, holding the ball in his hands, "But I can promise you that nobody's gonna hurt you if you _do_ tell me." He easily tossed the ball over to Gerry.

Gerry caught it and bounced the ball a few times before shooting it at the basket. "I wasn't lookin' out the window. I was … I was outside."

"Yeah?" Danny asked, catching the ball and dribbling it, "What were you doin' outside?"

Gerry shrugged. "Sometimes I go and sit outside when my mom's boyfriend comes over," he said, watching the ball bounce up and down under Danny's hand.

"Yeah? You don't like him so much?"

Gerry shook his head. "He yells a lot."

"My ma had a boyfriend like that," Danny said, continuing to bounce the ball, "_Mike_, his name was. I hated him."

"Did he yell, too?" Gerry asked.

Danny nodded. "All the time. He was a mean old bastard. Hit sometimes, too."

Gerry looked down and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Your mom's boyfriend do that sometimes, too?" Danny asked.

Gerry shrugged. He sighed and moved on. "I was outside. I was listening to my CD player on the steps, waiting for Sully to come out of the building. The garbage trucks were coming by, but some man ran out from the alley and paid the garbage men to go away."

"Then what?" Danny asked, shooting the ball into the basket. It bounced off of the backboard and swished neatly into the net. It dropped to the ground, and Danny caught it on the bounce.

Gerry rocked back and forth on his feet. "So I went to go look in the alley."

"Why'd you do that, man?" Danny asked, concerned.

"I wanted to see what was so secret," Gerry said quietly.

"And what was it?" Danny asked.

"That man was putting this naked girl in the dumpster," he said.

"Did the guy see you?" Danny asked.

Gerry shook his head. "I don't think so," he added quickly, looking up at Danny, "I ran pretty quick once I saw what he was doing. The girl … she wasn't moving. I called the cops after, but I changed my mind 'cause I didn't want no one coming after me."

Danny nodded, and held the ball in his hands. "Did you get a good look at the man?" Danny asked.

Gerry nodded. "He was medium height. Asian. He had on a big blue jacket and baggy black pants."

"Thanks," Danny said, "You're doing the right thing by telling me. You know that, right?"

Gerry shrugged.

"You are," Danny assured him, ruffling his hair. "You're doing a really good thing."

* * *

"He has an abusive step-father! You think that doesn't require some sort of action?" Lindsay nearly shouted at Danny, attempting to keep her voice to a level that wouldn't travel through the glass door of their office, and out into the hallway.

"Linds, I –" Danny attempted to say.

"God, Danny, I thought you'd be more sensitive to this kind of thing! After Celia, at least," she snapped. She stood and gathered her things, heading out of the office. "I'm going to go run the trace we found on the steps through the mass spec."

She raced out of the room before he could react. She clicked down the hall, her flats slapping against the floor. She fetched the box of evidence from the locker, and brought it up to the trace lab. She was opening the box when Hawkes came in, and saw her angrily pulling out evidence bags.

"What's wrong?" he asked, setting his box on the table. He and Stella were working on a case of a dead stockbroker found lying on the grass in Battery Park.

"Nothing," she snapped.

"Must be a pretty big nothing, to have you so mad," he remarked.

Lindsay blew a big stream of air out of her mouth and set her hands down on the table. She closed her eyes and frowned. "I just blew up at Danny over nothing."

"What kind of nothing?" Sheldon asked, taking out the q-tip from the evidence box that held a blue trace found on the stockbroker's shoe. He snipped off the tip and put it in a test tube.

"There was this little kid who called in about our DB," Lindsay explained, "And Danny thinks that he's being abused by his stepfather."

"Did you call CPS?" Sheldon asked.

Lindsay shook her head. "Danny said it was just a feeling. The kid never admitted anything."

"That's pretty rough," Sheldon mused, filling the test tube with water.

Lindsay nodded. "I don't know why it hits me so hard. I guess it's having Celia. I just can't picture anyone ever hurting her, least of all myself or Danny."

Sheldon nodded understandingly. "Maybe you could go over and talk to this kid again. Just check up on him. I'd go with you, if you wanted."

"Thanks, Sheldon," Lindsay said with a smile. She laughed a little bit. "Do you remember when we went to interview that kid a few years ago, the one from the Chinatown light store murder?"

Sheldon grinned and nodded. "The kid that was unbelievably high? Thought your baby belly was hiding a bomb?"

Lindsay laughed. "I've never seen anyone run that fast away from me in my life."

"He started screaming when you came into interrogation later," Sheldon laughed.

Lindsay nodded. She sighed happily. "That was definitely a high point to the pregnancy."

Sheldon smiled understandingly. He turned back to his work for a minute before looking up again at her. "What about the doctor's appointment where the nurse didn't understand why the ultrasound machine didn't work? That was a high point."

Lindsay giggled. "You mean when you convinced her it was broken, then plugged it in after she left?"

Sheldon shrugged. "I wanted to have a little fun with her."

"She was so mad when she realized what was going on. You almost got me kicked out of the office," she laughed.

"The next appointment was pretty awkward; I'll admit that," Sheldon said, "But she knew I was just –"

The door opened, and Danny stepped in. He looked back and forth between Sheldon and Lindsay, who were still giggling a little bit.

"Looks cozy," Danny remarked.

The two looked at him in surprise, and settled down into silence as he placed the evidence bag he was holding next to Lindsay, quietly told her that he'd collected it from the edge of the dumpster, and turned to leave.

"Keep goin' with what you were doing," he said as he exited through the glass door, "Don't let me interrupt anything."

* * *

Later that night, after her second shift, Lindsay saw Danny again, sitting in their office with a stack of files on his desk and an open one in his hand.

She took a breath and walked over to her desk to gather her things. She shoved them into her bag and stood to leave.

"Wait up, I'll take you home," Danny said quietly. He shoved the files into a desk drawer and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Don't bother," Lindsay said briskly, "I'm going to my place. You're going to yours. It's out of your way."

"What, you think you're going home alone?" Danny asked, lifting up Lindsay's carrier bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He followed her out the door as she stomped out of the building.

"Just go away, Danny," she snapped, grabbing the strap of the bag and slipping it off of his shoulder. She brought it over her own as he let it slide off of his arm. "I want to be alone. Don't you get that?"

"I don't care," he said, "It's late and I'm taking you home," he said stubbornly, shoving his hands in his pockets and following her still.

"I can get there by myself," she said furiously, "So just … just … fuck off!" she spat the words out, shaking them from her body. She stormed past him and headed out onto the street, stomping towards the subway station. It was a full two blocks later, lost in her own thoughts, that she realized that he was following her. She knew she should have expected it from him, but some part of her wanted to be alone so badly that she was willing to deny it.

She spun around as soon as she realized it, as soon as she saw his reflection in a mirror. "Go away," she growled.

"I'm not letting you walk home alone," he said simply, "I can walk you, or we can go and take the bike. Either way, you aren't getting home alone."

"I don't want to see you!" she shouted, "What part of that don't you understand!"

"And I don't want you out this late, alone!" he shouted back. "Now either let me follow you back, or let me take you on the bike!"

She stared at him, glaring and panting. She turned and looked at the street behind her, the streets dark and empty. She turned back to Danny, who was watching her with equal intensity, his fists obviously clenched in his pockets.

"Fine!" she shouted, then, more quietly, "I'll go on the bike."

"Then get over here," Danny said, his voice still strong and loud, "And stand next to me while we walk. I don't want you to look like you're walking alone. Someone could try to do something."

She stomped over to him and walked in step with him back to the NYPD parking lot. He handed her a helmet in silence, watching to make sure she fastened it, and then put on his own. He held out a hand to help her onto the bike, and started it. The roar of the engine sounded through the parking lot, and he sped off out of the garage.

He drove fast because he was afraid that, at any moment, she would tap his shoulder, ask him to let her off of the bike, and break up with him on the city streets. His plan was simple – get her home, then haul ass out of there so that she couldn't say anything that they would both regret. Or before _he_ said anything.

However, when she slid off the back of his motorcycle at her apartment building, she didn't do it angrily, or hurriedly, like he'd expected. She slipped off quietly and gently, making sure not to hurt him.

She turned to him, took off her helmet, and kissed him quietly.

He was taken aback, but not so much as to not respond. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her closer, determined to kiss her as passionately as he could, if she was going to break up with him in the next ten minutes.

She broke away slowly, and wrapped her arms around him. "Will you come stay with us?" she asked.

Danny nodded. He slipped off his bike, pulled the key out, and stored his helmet under the seat. He followed her up the steps and into the building.

"I don't want him to be hurt anymore," Lindsay said, unlocking the apartment, "He's just a little kid."

Danny tugged her arm away from the door. He pulled her quickly into a hug, bringing her tightly against his body. "I know," he said.

"Then why aren't we doing anything?" she asked, the angry edge returning to her voice. "Why didn't we call someone?"

"I did," Danny said, "I had Flack take in the boyfriend for tonight. For now, I had him say that he's a person of interest."

"But he has an alibi …" Lindsay mused. "Oh," she said, realizing. She smiled sadly at Danny, "But that's so temporary."

"I know," Danny said, kissing her cheek and opening the door. "So I called a social worker to come and check up on Gerry and his ma next week."

Lindsay stared in shock at him as he stepped into the apartment. "You didn't tell me that," she said.

He shrugged and pulled out his wallet to pay the babysitter, who was sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee in her hand. "Thanks," Alexa said with a grin, "The baby woke up an hour ago, but I gave her some milk and she seems like she's fine now."

"Thanks," Danny said, "We'll call you if we need you again."

Alexa smiled at him and discreetly checked him out before slipping past Lindsay and heading out the door.

"She likes you," Lindsay said, shutting the door behind her with a grin.

"She's like thirteen," Danny snorted.

"She thinks you're a cutie," Lindsay laughed.

"She's a kid," Danny said with a grin, "But are you jealous? Really, Monroe, you're jealous? Of a teenager?"

Lindsay shrugged. "You were jealous of Sheldon today."

Danny frowned. He set his badge and keys on the table and pulled out a glass from the cabinets above her sink. He filled it with water and ice.

"He was my friend during the pregnancy," she said, "I'm not going to take away what we had."

Danny snorted. "What you had?" he asked, "What did you have …" He turned around. "You dated him? Did you have sex with Sheldon while you were pregnant?"

"For God's sake, Danny," Lindsay hissed, turning away from him. She dumped her bag onto the floor and kicked off her shoes.

"Did you?" Danny asked, his voice rising in volume.

"I can't have friends without sleeping with them, can I, Danny?" she snapped, "I'm sorry to break it to you, but we're not all like you."

Danny winced. He set the water on the counter and walked away from her, to Celia's bedroom, leaving Lindsay in the kitchen, feeling like an awful person. She couldn't understand what was making her so irritable. She walked into the baby's bedroom to find Danny leaving the crib.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean it, Danny, I –"

Danny shook his head. "It's fine. I shouldn'ta said that about you and Doc. I just … I get scared that you're lookin' for someone else sometimes."

"I wouldn't do that," she said, "I have you."

Danny walked calmly over to her and kissed her, running a hand through her hair and resting it on her neck as he pulled her in closer. "I love you," he said, "I get afraid of losing you. And I'm sorry if sometimes I'm a dick about it."

Lindsay smiled. "It's OK. I can be awful about it, too," she admitted.

Danny bent down and wrapped his arms under her ass, and lifted her up into his arms. "How about I go show you how sorry I am?" he asked.

Lindsay grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Lindsay lay awake later that night, held tightly in Danny's arms. He was wrapped around her, one leg thrown over both of hers, his face pressed against her hair. She could feel all of him against her back, warming her. She knew that, under the circumstances, she should be able to fall asleep, but something held her back.

He did so much for her. He kept her from harm, bought her coffee when she didn't ask for it, and knew that if he was going to buy her a cookie, he had to make sure that the chocolate chips were dark chocolate, and not milk. He loved their daughter more than anything in the world, and he was a good, good man.

And what was she? The woman who'd kept him away from his child for the first month of her life? The woman who'd changed his life without asking him, without cushioning the blow? She sighed and attempted to roll out of his embrace, to get away from him and the guilt.

His hands tightened sleepily around her nude form, pulling her closer. She reached down to his hands, which were laced comfortably around her waist, and tried to pull them off.

"What, what's happening?" Danny asked, tiredly pulling himself up on one elbow, his warm arms leaving Lindsay's body.

"Nothing," she whispered, "Go back to sleep."

"What's wrong?" Danny asked, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and struggling to sit up.

"Why do you want to marry me?" Lindsay asked, looking up at him.

Danny blinked, then rubbed at his eye with one hand. "I … what?"

"Why do you want to marry me?" Lindsay repeated.

"I love you," Danny said, his voice gruff from sleep. He reached over Lindsay and snagged the water bottle sitting on her bedside table. He uncapped it and drank a long sip before returning it.

"Is that it?" Lindsay asked.

Danny shook his head, then slipped his body back completely under the covers, his hands reaching out for her under the blankets. He found her and pulled her towards him. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"But why me?" Lindsay asked.

"You want a list?" he mumbled, flipping onto his back and taking her with him. She crossed her arms on his chest and wiggled her head out of the covers. The light blue covers, glowing in the moonlight, rested on her head. She set her chin on her crossed arms and watched him.

"I just want to know why me. If you'd had a child with Candace, then would you be with her? Would you ask to marry _her_?"

"No," Danny said, "She was never my Montana."

Lindsay smiled, but Danny could sense that it didn't exactly reach her eyes.

"I don't love you because of Celia. Granted, she makes me love you, because you gave me her, but I want to marry you for a different kind of love," he said, wondering if he was making any sense.

By the look in her eyes, he could tell he wasn't.

"What kind of love makes you want to marry me?" Lindsay asked.

Danny swallowed, trying to work out a way to avoid the question. It wasn't that he didn't have an answer – he knew the answer, and had known it since the day he saw her at the tiger cage. He just wasn't sure if he could say it right while his mind was still bogged down with sleep, and his eyes could barely stay open.

"Can we talk about this in the morning? When I can think?" Danny asked.

"Please?" Lindsay begged.

It was the way she looked like a bride already, with that glowing white comforter draped on her head. It was also the tears that were threatening in her eyes, like she depended on him for something that would allow her to hold onto him, to feel safe, and to not worry.

"I love you because you're you," Danny said, slowly tracing back a strand of hair that was slipping down onto her forehead, and nudging it up with the tip of his finger back, all the way to the curve of her ear. "When you do something, even if it's something that everyone else does, I love you because it's _you_ doing it. I can't really say it any other way." He brushed his thumb over her lips. "Especially not at four in the morning."

Lindsay smiled at him, and Danny brushed a tear from the side of her nose. He hooked his arms under hers and pulled her up for a kiss.

"How was that?" he asked.

"Perfect," Lindsay murmured, aligning her body on top of his. She tucked her head into the space where his neck met his shoulder and smiled sleepily.

Danny nodded and rested his hand on the back of her head, his thumb moving gently on her scalp.

"Will you marry me, then?" Lindsay asked.

"God, yes," Danny said.


	23. Chapter 23

**Rated M. Really strong M.**

* * *

"This is… oh, God, why are we doing this – let's just go back to my place and we can think this through –" Lindsay turned on her heel, pushing Celia's stroller out the door of the airport and attempting to leave.

Danny reached behind himself, grabbed onto her elbow, and pulled her back. "We gotta do this," he said with an encouraging grin, although, inside, his heart was pounding so hard that he could feel it all the way to his toes. "Your family needs you."

"No they don't!" Lindsay huffed, "It's my parent's fortieth wedding anniversary. There will be lots of people there, and they won't notice if –"

"Lindsay, come on," Danny said, pulling her towards the check-in counter. He adjusted the large duffel bag on his shoulder, and the diaper bag on his other. "It's just three days. Blink and it'll be over."

Lindsay bit her lip in anxiety and followed him to the counter. She glanced down at Celia in the stroller and gave her daughter a pained, apologetic expression, to which Celia gurgled and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

* * *

On the plane, when Celia was sleeping in her plastic baby carrier at the window seat, Lindsay pulled up the armrest between herself and Danny, and rested her head on his shoulder.

He tugged out the ear piece of his ipod and looked down at her. "You tired? You wanna sleep?" He pulled his arm from between them and draped it over her shoulders. "Go ahead," he said.

"It's not that," she sighed, but snuggled into his embrace anyways, smiling as he squeezed her gently and kissed the top of her head. "I just don't think this is a good idea."

Danny shrugged. "You'll be fine," he said comfortingly, "You're their daughter, and they love you."

"But they're going to kill you," she said simply.

"That's my problem, not yours," Danny chuckled.

"You didn't have to come," she said worriedly.

"Yeah, I did. I don't want you having to take care of her on your own _and _have to be around your family at the same time, and I don't want you to have to stay away from Celia." He pulled out the other earpiece to his ipod and wrapped the cord around it, then slid the device into the pocket at the seat in front of him. "Think of this as like our first family vacation."

Lindsay groaned and wrapped her arms around Danny's waist.

* * *

Danny collected their shared duffel bag from the baggage claim and settled it over his shoulder, then took the diaper bag from Lindsay. As they started to walk towards the doors of the exit, Danny stopped and turned to Lindsay.

"Not yet. There's something … I mean, are you OK with this?" he asked, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb across her naked ring finger.

"What, not having a ring?" Lindsay asked.

"Yeah. I mean, do you want your parents to know?"

"Well, yes, but we can tell them," she said, confused.

"Do you want to wear the ring? I mean, I haven't asked you yet for real, but if you want to wear the ring for now, and then I can take it back and ask you when I planned to anyways –"

"What on earth are you talking about?" Lindsay asked.

Danny sighed and pulled the small black felt box from his pocket. He handed it to her, taking Celia's plastic carrier so she had a free hand to open it.

Inside, she found a small silver ring with a simple, yet fairly large, diamond stone set in the middle of it. She looked up at Danny in shock.

He shrugged. "I mean, we're engaged and all, and I've had it for a while, but I thought you would want to wear it now until I ask you for real. So you don't have to explain it all to your parents."

Lindsay nodded and reached inside the box, but Danny set the two bags on the floor, then Celia's carrier, and moved her hand away. "I should do it," he said, clearing his throat, "I mean, you know. Tradition." He plucked the ring out of the box and slid it on her finger, letting his hand linger on hers for as long as he could.

"It's beautiful," Lindsay said, letting the ring glitter in the bright lighting of the airport.

"Thank Stella," Danny said, "She helped pick it out." He bent down and picked up the bags, then Celia's carrier, and walked out into the cold Montana air.

Lindsay shuffled behind him in a daze, staring at the ring, and admiring how it looked so permanent on her finger. She tried to tell him what it meant, to see that ring on her finger, but she could not form the words. All she could do was take Celia's carrier from his arms, grab his hand, and squeeze it tightly.

Before they knew it, a large Ford truck rolled up beside the waiting area, and Lindsay's father stepped out of the side.

"Hi, princess," he said to Lindsay, who kissed him quickly on the cheek and hugged him. "Why don't you throw them bags in the back, and we'll see if we can fix the baby up in the back seat?"

Danny chucked the duffel bag into the truck bed, then opened the passenger door of the truck. He opened the back seat door, and helped Lindsay up into the narrow back seat before carefully attaching Celia's carrier to the seat.

Celia woke up with a shocked cry as she felt the seat jolt when Danny tested the seatbelt to make sure it was stable.

"Oh, poor baby," Lindsay said sympathetically, and unbuckled the baby from her seat. She cuddled her in her arms. "She's freezing, Danny, will you shut the door?"

Danny nodded and slammed the door shut, then got into the front passenger's seat, next to Robert, who started the car.

They waited until Celia's cries turned to whimpers, and the baby was securely fastened in her car seat. Robert supplied quiet questions for the drive: the usual small talk, the occasional, "Hmm," and "Yep." He asked about their flight, the turbulence, was Celia OK, etc, etc.

When they arrived at the house, Danny stepped outside, his eyes wide at the seven or eight cars parked on the street.

"Most of the relatives drove in yesterday," Robert grunted, "They're mostly downstairs. You both should take the stuff up first, and then come on down to meet 'em all."

Danny nodded, while Lindsay blanched, staring at a particular car. It was a shiny black mustang, parked loudly between a dusty Volvo and a beat-up minivan. "Daryll," she whispered.

"What?" Danny asked, picking the bags up from the back of the car.

"My cousin," Lindsay gulped, "He's a huge ass."

Danny laughed. "Oh, yeah?"

Lindsay nodded. "He thinks he's sooo cool because he lives in the city."

"What city?" Danny asked.

"Seattle," Lindsay said hatefully, "Every summer, he'd go on and on about how exciting the city was, how there were so many people and you could always get the best toys and there was always something to do – I _hate _Daryll."

"You kind of one upped him on the city thing," Danny commented, adjusting the duffel's strap on his shoulder and grabbing the baby bag from the back seat. He offered a hand to Lindsay so she could get out of the car holding Celia's car seat. She took his hand and let herself down with the car seat in her hand.

They walked inside to the bustling group of people, who barely noticed the small family's presence in the large, comfortable house. Lindsay led Danny up the stairs, then down the hallway to a door on the right.

Danny glanced around at the walls, which held photographs of Lindsay with friends and family, and a poster or two of faraway places. The small queen bed in the corner was outfitted in a soft quilt. The room, as compared to the spacious, echoing house, was cozy and lived in.

Lindsay yawned and set Celia's carrier on the floor, then flopped onto the bed, closing her eyes and snuggling comfortably with the pillow.

"You miss your old room?" Danny asked with a laugh.

"Yes," she said, burying her nose in the pillow as she used to do when she was a little girl.

Danny felt odd intruding on her childhood habits, until she reached out her hand and pulled him onto the bed, cuddling up to his body.

"I don't want to go downstairs," Lindsay said, "I feel sick."

Danny rested the back of his hand on her forehead. "You don't have a fever," he said with a smirk. "Are you _lying, _Ms. Monroe?"

Lindsay giggled and kissed the side of his neck. She looked around the room. "My mother said she'd bring a crib in here," she mused, "But I don't see it. I'll go up to the attic and bring it down."

"I can do it," Danny said, pulling himself up off of the bed.

"You don't know where to go," Lindsay reminded him.

"So show me," he said.

She got up with him and headed into the hallway, and looked up at the ceiling. "Gimme a boost," she said.

"What?" he asked.

"Give me a boost. I have to find the string."

Danny got down on one knee and laced his fingers together, creating a little step for her. She placed her hand on his shoulder and stepped neatly into his hands, and reached up. Her fingers scraped across the ceiling until she found the little hook that held the string for the stairs. She tugged on it, then hopped down from Danny's hands.

"Watch out," she said, pulling him out of the way as the stairs creakily unfolded. They trooped up the stairs and were suddenly faced with piles and piles of boxes, dust, and furniture.

"Jesus," Danny said.

Lindsay laughed. "My mom likes to _keep_ everything, but she doesn't like to _look_ at it."

"So … is that the crib?" he asked, pointing to a dusty looking object in the far corner of the attic.

"Yep," Lindsay said, heading over to it. She assumed that Danny was following her until she reached the crib and turned to find him staring at a picture frame with a huge smile on his face.

"Is this you?" He asked, smirking. He held up a picture of a young girl with two pigtails, eating a popsicle, the red juice smeared all over her face.

"Yes," Lindsay muttered.

Danny laughed and set the frame back down on the box. "You think your mom would let us take that one home?"

"Why?" Lindsay asked defensively.

"So I can copy it and paste it on your locker at work," Danny said simply.

Lindsay punched his shoulder, hard.

"Ow!" he shouted, laughing. "So you want to take one end, I'll take the other?"

"Yeah," Lindsay said, and moved to the other side of the crib. They walked the piece of furniture out of the attic, and set it on the top of the stairs.

They maneuvered it down the stairs, and then into Lindsay's old bedroom, next to the bed. Lindsay found a duster in a closet and cleaned the crib off, and Danny helped set up blankets and sheets on it. Once Celia was fed and sleeping peacefully in the crib, Danny and Lindsay looked at each other.

"Well I guess that leaves only one thing to do," Lindsay sighed.

Danny stretched out his hand to her, and she took it and the two headed downstairs.

* * *

"…And this is my Aunt Charlotte," Lindsay said, turning Danny towards a round, comfortable woman with a face the color of a beet.

"Nice 'ta meet ya," Danny said, shaking the woman's hand.

"Well if you aren't the cutest thing!" Charlotte said happily.

"You're … ah, Betty's sister?" Danny asked.

Charlotte smiled and nodded, her cheerfully chubby chin shaking with her. "For as long as I can remember," she laughed heartily.

Danny couldn't help but laugh with her.

"This is my cousin Bobby," Lindsay said, turning Danny to a surly teenager standing beside Charlotte.

"Hi," Danny said, extending his hand.

"Bobby, this is Danny, my fiancé," Lindsay said.

"So?" Bobby grunted.

Danny cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Bobby, that's not how we greet people!" Charlotte said cheerfully. To Danny and Lindsay, she stage-whispered, "It's the stage he's in right now."

"Huh," Danny said.

Lindsay pulled him away to meet someone else, whispering in his ear, "Bullshit. I haven't seen Bobby smile since he was two."

Danny snorted a quick laugh, then was quickly introduced to yet another member of Lindsay's family.

* * *

As the last Monroe was ushered out the door, Lindsay and Danny sat, exhausted, side by side on the sofa, staring at a framed picture of a pretty nature scene on the blank, white walls.

"That was …" Danny muttered, attempting to find a word.

"Tiring?" Lindsay asked, sitting up straighter on the couch.

Danny shrugged. "Yeah, that works. I'm about ready to hit the sack. How about you?"

She smiled and made to stand, but Betty breezed into the room and took a seat on the little chair facing her daughter and Danny.

"So," she said primly, pursing her lips, "I see you're wearing a ring, Lindsay."

Lindsay looked down at her hand to the diamond engagement ring, which sparkled subtly in the soft light of the living room. She coughed nervously and bit her lip. "Yes, Danny and I are getting married."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Betty asked, frowning, "You've barely gotten back together." The final few words seemed to be venomous.

"Why don't we discuss this in the morning?" Lindsay said briskly, pulling herself up and tugging Danny along behind her.

Instead of taking him into her room, Lindsay pulled him off to the last bedroom at the end of the hall, an empty looking room that contained a single sofa next to a table with a sewing machine. Lindsay closed the door behind her and immediately moved her hands to her shirt. She unbuttoned it rapidly.

"What the hell are you –" Danny hissed in surprise.

"Take off your clothes," Lindsay said, finishing with her shirt and throwing it to the side. She unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down to her ankles before stepping out of them and her boots, leaving her in a pair of soft blue panties and a lacy black bra.

Danny complied, although a little confused. "Are we sleeping in here?" he asked, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

Lindsay shook her head as she moved to the window at the far end of the room and pulled the curtains across it. "Nope," she said, "But Celia's in my room right now, and the guest room at the other end of the hall is right above my parent's room, and I need sex. So take off the clothes, Danny."

Danny's eyes darkened in arousal as he slid his wifebeater shirt off of his head and tossed it to the side on the floor.

He was barely through unbuttoning his jeans when a fully naked Lindsay came over and replaced his hands in one swift move as she pressed her mouth to his in an eager, hungry kiss.

He opened his mouth to hers quickly, having missed kissing her after the flight and the day he'd had. Together, they pulled his jeans and boxers down. She helped him step out of them by standing on the rolled denim of the jeans while he shook them off each foot.

Once naked, Danny quickly lifted her up, holding her so close that he could feel the soft, silky ends of her short hair brush against his shoulders. He pushed her to the wall, and she shivered at the cold plaster pressing on her back.

"You're on birth control now, right?" he asked breathlessly, "Because I don't know if I brought condoms here."

"Yeah," she murmured, pulling him in closer with her heels, "Come on, Danny, I need you to fu – oh!" she yelped as he thrust into her warm, wet entrance.

She'd been anticipating this all day, needing it after the stress of the flight, her parents, and her extended family. The best thing about sex with Danny is that it could mean so many things, lots of which she had yet to discover. While it always held that extreme pleasure that always served to flush her body with an intense arousal, having sex with him could be any number of things. In this particular case, though, all Lindsay wanted was a way to relieve the stress in her body. And Danny, somehow, had picked up on that desire.

He thrust into her again and again, pausing only to hoist her higher on the wall with one arm.

"Fuck you look so hot," he panted, watching the way her eyes closed and she leaned back against the wall. The short haircut was clinging to the sides of her face, framing her features. His favorite thing was the way the free hair bounced with each thrust, visual proof that what he was doing affected her wholly.

Balancing her on an arm that he slid under her ass, he moved his other hand down to where they were joined and rubbed hard at her clit, alternating between his strong thrusts to create a sort of alternate rhythm.

It was only when she had to muffle a scream into his shoulder that he let himself go as well, feeling her orgasm shudder through her body as he let his come on.

Once they had calmed down to some extent, he stumbled his way over to the couch and sat down with Lindsay still on his lap with her legs wrapped around him.

"Do you want to shower, or just go to sleep?" he breathed.

She nodded tiredly, her arms draped around his neck.

"Yes to what?" he asked, trying to look at her face. Once he caught a glimpse of her, though, he realized that she was completely asleep in his arms, her head pillowed against his shoulder.

"Guess that answers it," he chuckled as he started to collect their clothes.

* * *

"Lindsay? Lindsay Monroe?" the man asked, stopping in his path completely. He stared wide-eyed at Lindsay, who was lazily picking up an apple from the neatly arranged pile at the supermarket.

Lindsay looked briefly over to where Danny was choosing a good head of lettuce near the vegetables. She looked up at the man standing before her, with his little boy-next door, round-faced good looks. Her eyes widened.

"M-Matt?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Matt said with a quick grin.

Matt Bairns, Lacrosse champion and nearly unanimously voted prom king of Lindsay's graduating class, was grinning flirtatiously at her, and Lindsay felt nothing remotely related to sexual attraction. Ten years ago, five, even, she would have blushed bright as the lights on a Christmas tree and might have fainted. Here in front of her was the man who'd led her to believe that he was going to ask her to their school dance, but instead opted for the much thinner, the much blonder Lisa Daniels.

"It's nice to see you again," Lindsay said pleasantly, dropping the apple into her basket. "How've you been?"

Matt shrugged, and leaned his hip against the large counter that contained the assorted fruits. "I got married … divorced, that whole deal."

"Oh, that's …" And Lindsay stopped. Because, in honesty, she wasn't sure what he meant. From the words, she could offer either a congratulations or a sympathetic remark, but from the light wink he'd given her, he seemed to be expecting something very different.

"I …" Lindsay said hesitantly, "Um, I'm …"

Danny's arm slid around her waist, and he tugged her into his body. He dropped the lettuce head he'd found into the basket, and kissed her cheek. "Hey, babe," he said casually.

Lindsay smiled at Matt. "This is Danny Messer, my fiancé," she said, "And Danny, this is Matt Bairns, a friend of mine from high school."

"How ya doin'," Danny said, shaking Matt's hand quickly. He stepped away from her, grinning cheekily, and headed towards the onions.

"Well, Matt, it was nice to see you," Lindsay said awkwardly, watching Danny pull an onion out from the pile and motion that he was heading over to the bread aisle.

"Why don't you come over while you're in town?" Matt asked, smiling, "My mother would love to see you. She still thinks you're the best horse groomer around here."

"Well, I'll try," Lindsay laughed nervously.

She said her goodbyes to Matt and then hurried off after Danny. Once she found him, as he was picking out a box of diapers and juggling a loaf of bread, she groaned and hugged him from behind.

"That was awful; why did you leave me?" she cried.

He laughed and hugged her arms to his chest. "Sorry, baby, you looked so at ease that I wanted to leave you there."

"Shut up," Lindsay grunted.

"Poor you," Danny deadpanned, pulling Celia's size in diapers from the shelf. He turned around and took the basket from Lindsay, then placed his recent items inside. After observing her face for a moment, he pecked her lips and took her hand, leading her towards the cash register.

They spotted Matt walking out of the automatic doors as they reached first place in line.

"So how do you know him again?" Danny asked.

"School," Lindsay said with a frown. "He was prom king, sports star, all-American boy."

"Who fuckin' cares?" Danny asked, "Guys who get all that shit are jackasses."

"_You_ were prom king. And, if I'm not mistaken, you were the school's baseball star," Lindsay reminded him with a slow smirk.

"I never wanted to be," he said defensively, pulling out his wallet to pay for the groceries, "My girlfriend made me run. She wanted a king and queen deal. But big deal. Not the point."

"So what is the point?" Lindsay asked, helping the woman at the counter load up their food and necessities into the paper bags.

"The point is, why did that guy make you so jittery?" Danny asked with a grin. He knew he'd hit a touchy subject when she didn't respond at all, instead taking several of the bags and turning away from him towards the doors.

Danny picked up the last bag and hurried off after her. "Hey, Linds, what the hell?" he asked, taking one of her bags from her and carrying it for her.

"Let's just go. Back to the house," she said, walking towards the truck.

Danny, who'd stashed the keys in his pocket, managed to shift the bags to one hand and hit the unlock button. The car flashed its lights, and gave a dull click.

Lindsay ripped the door open and dropped the bags to the ground, where her feet were. Danny chose to open the back seat door and slide the bags in gently.

He remained silent until he was turning onto the road again. "What's the deal with this guy?" he asked.

"He's just a jerk, that's all. A jerk of a jock. And I hate jocks. And _you_ were one. So _sorry_ if I just regressed a little bit to my high school ways," she said sarcastically, absently.

"Oh, come on, Linds, don't act like that. All immature and shit," Danny snorted, "You know just as much as I do that you wouldn't hate me in high school."

"Wanna bet?" Lindsay snapped.

Danny looked over at her, and saw that she was fuming as she looked out the window, her lips set, her fist propped under her jaw, her elbow resting on the door handle. She was glaring out at the snowy landscape out the window.

Danny reached out to her and brushed her hair back behind her ear. "Well I wouldn'ta hated you," he said, hating himself for the sappiness.

Lindsay blushed a little bit and slouched back in her seat, leaning into his hand. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Now come on. Be nice to me, and apologize by telling me what this guy did that made you so revved up, so I can beat him up later and not have a real reason for it," Danny said smoothly.

Lindsay laughed. "It was just stupid high school stuff. Dating problems. The usual."

"You dated that asshole?" Danny asked conversationally, turning onto the highway towards the Monroe's house.

"No, God no. I just wanted to. He was just your average, run of the mill, high school jerk. Copying off my tests one minute, rejecting me the next, you know," she sighed.

He shook his head slowly. "Not really. But it's cool. I'll make him pay later."

"Gee, thanks," Lindsay laughed. She kicked her boots off and bent her legs under her.

"What I'm here for," Danny said calmly.

"You're not here for this, though," Lindsay groaned, watching as the Monroe house came into view. "I'm so unbelievably sorry that you have to be here for this reunion thing. My mom has already called you 'The Cheater' twice, and my cousin Daryll called you "The Gay City Boy," and …"

Danny laughed, resting his hand on her thigh. "Look, Linds, I don't give a fuck what they say. If _you_ start gettin' pissed at me, that's what I worry about. I'm too far gone to start trying to impress your family. I'm at the point of no return right now."

"I'm sorry," Lindsay gulped.

"Don't be," Danny said sincerely, pulling into the driveway, "You have no reason to be." He parked the car neatly inside the garage and pulled the key out. He leaned over and kissed a spot right next to Lindsay's ear. "Plus, if you give me lots of repeats of the kind of sex we have when your parents are pissed at us, then I'll be good for life," he whispered.

Lindsay laughed and shrieked as he licked a spot next to her ear, then hopped out of the car after him.


	24. Chapter 24

Laurzz – I hope you get the reference :)

* * *

Danny jogged down the stairs to breakfast the next morning, Celia in his arms, a bottle in his hand. She was giggling as he exaggerated the size of the steps, jiggling her as he took grand leaps up and down the stairs. She shrieked over and over again in laughter.

Danny hummed a little song to move his feet in time to, a meandering tune that called for many dramatic ups and downs.

"Ta-dah!" Danny finished with a bright grin as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He walked into the kitchen to find it occupied, with Betty's back turned to him. She was wearing a moderately shapeless purple dress that ballooned around her thin frame. When she turned to Danny, her face was scrunched up tightly as though she'd been sucking at a lemon.

"Mornin'," Danny said cautiously, putting the bottle onto the sink and grabbing a small pan to fill with water.

"I've already warmed up some formula," Betty said primly, nodding towards the bottle sitting on the counter beside her.

Danny eyed it warily. "I … uh …" he said nervously, "I thought Celia was just on breast milk?"

Betty gave a condescending laugh, then turned back to stirring the waffle batter she had in a bowl in front of her. "Lindsay's not a machine. When Celia turned two months she started supplementing her diet with formula."

The words may have been helpful, but Danny couldn't help but feel that Betty wished he were three thousand miles away, and maybe dead in a ditch somewhere.

Danny sighed and placed the bottle, which Lindsay had pumped before going to bed the night before, in the fridge. He picked up the warmed bottle on the counter and tested it on his wrist. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up to see Betty scrutinizing his every move.

"Yes?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"I already warmed and tested it. You don't have to second-guess me. I did raise two children."

"How long ago was that, now?" Danny asked innocently.

Betty frowned and turned back to her waffle batter. "There's just something men will never understand about motherhood," she sighed, resting the back of one hand on her forehead.

"Doesn't that go both ways?" Danny mused, handing Celia the bottle. She took it in both her hands and drank eagerly. Danny watched in mixed pride and amusement to see his little girl drink from a bottle that seemed almost to rival her in size.

"What?" Betty snapped.

Danny lifted one shoulder in a shrug, leaning back against the counter as he held Celia. "I dunno, I mean aren't there some things moms don't get about being a dad?"

Betty rolled her eyes and lifted the cover of the waffle iron. She poured the soupy mixture into the receptacle. "You are so inexperienced," she said, shaking her head, "I don't really know why you haven't seen it after the time you claim to have spent with Lindsay and Celia-"

"Claim?" Danny asked, bemused.

"-I should think that, by now, you understand that there is just a bond between mothers and their children that men just will never understand. Then again," she said, hiding her small smile, "It's not like you really witnessed the pregnancy much. So I guess that may be why you don't see it."

A muscle in Danny's jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth in anger.

Celia's eyes rolled up to look at Danny as she sucked contentedly on the bottle, nearly oblivious to the battle that was taking place around her.

Danny let out a slow stream of breath, forcing his gaze away from Betty.

"Morning!" Lindsay said happily as she jogged down the stairs of the house and practically skipped into the kitchen in a pair of thick sweatpants and a tight long-sleeved t-shirt. She smiled at Danny, forced a grin at her mother, and pulled out an apple from the fruit basket.

"Don't eat yet," Betty said, snapping the apple out of Lindsay's hands, "You'll spoil your appetite for breakfast."

Lindsay rolled her eyes and turned to Danny with a smile on her face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. The taste of her minty toothpaste still lingered in her mouth, and it made him think of waking up beside her, of knowing the way it tasted although he used a different brand. He loved knowing so many things about her that he could not list, or name – like how the smell of her hair made him feel, what it meant to him to recognize which rubber band she was wearing in her hair – the fat ones in dull pastels, or the skinny ones that were vibrant and bright in color. He loved _knowing _her, and that was enough.

"So I was thinking we could go sledding with Celia today," Lindsay suggested, "It's not going to snow today, so the weather will be nice."

"Sounds good," Danny said with a smile.

* * *

An hour later, Danny and Lindsay found themselves standing at the edge of a set of low hills behind the Monroe house, with a sled before them, and Celia sitting on the snow, attempting to pick some up with a thick, cumbersome mitten.

Danny watched his daughter pinch, lobster style, at the snow on the ground with a frown on her face before bending down and swinging her up into his arms. "C'mon, Coco, let's see what we got here." He grabbed the toboggan, which was a vintage-style wooden one with a curved end, and pulled it up the small hill behind him.

Lindsay stood at the edge of the hill, chatting with her father, who'd come along.

"Linds, you wanna go down the hill with her?" Danny called to her as he stood about a quarter of a ways up.

"Yeah!" Lindsay shouted, and touched her father's shoulder, then raced up the hill after Danny. She arrived next to him a moment later, cheeks pink, breathing a little heavily.

Danny held the toboggan for her as she sat down near the front, and reached up her arms for Celia.

"Come on, baby!" Lindsay said cheerfully, "Wanna come for a ride with mommy?" She nestled Celia in between her legs, which she set on either side of the sled, on the snow, to control the speed at which the sled would go.

Danny rested his hand on the back of Lindsay's gray coat and bent to her ear. "Are you sure this is a good idea? She's kinda small to enjoy it."

"She's almost six months," Lindsay scoffed, "She's practically a teenager at this point."

Danny laughed, but didn't let go of the front of the sled. "Seriously, Linds. What if you crash?"

Lindsay laughed out loud and adjusted herself on the toboggan, scooting her knees closer so that Celia was boosted a little higher on her lap. "Danny. The hill's incline is barely ten degrees. I think she'll be fine."

Danny noted that the hill _seemed_ to have an incline of closer to forty-five degrees, which frightened him, but he forced himself to let go of the front of the toboggan. However, he was not convinced enough to be stopped from jogging alongside the sled as it slowly slid down the hillside.

Lindsay lifted her feet a little higher off the snow, causing the sled to slip faster, and pulled Celia up so that the baby could see the snow sweep under the sled in front of her.

Celia shrieked out in laughter, reaching out with two chubby, heavily covered arms towards the snow in front of her.

"She likes it!" Lindsay said excitedly.

The sled slid to a stop near Robert's feet. The gray-haired man, dressed in only Carharts and a fleece jacket, smiled tenderly at his granddaughter and daughter.

"Dad, did you see?" Lindsay asked happily, "She likes it!"

"'Course she does," Robert said in his quiet voice, "You loved it too when you were that age."

Lindsay smiled widely at her father, then stood up, holding Celia. "Danny, you wanna try?" she asked. Her previously innocent, childish grin turned devilish.

Danny eyed the sled warily, then returned Lindsay's grin with an equally daring one that made Lindsay's heart flutter. _He looks like sex embodied when he smiles all dangerous like that, _Lindsay thought in a girlish giggle, and grabbed the rope attached to the sled. She grabbed Danny's hand and dragged him up the hill they'd climbed with Celia, yet this time, pulled him all the way to the top.

Danny glanced down at Robert, who stood holding his granddaughter below them, and measured the distance down to the man with his eyes. It didn't seem _that _far. Danny hadn't had much experience in sledding, being that it was difficult to find a good hill that wasn't covered in a layer of honking cars or squeezed-together buildings. It was something about the great expanse of white, white snow in front of him that rattled his nerves.

"Not that side," Lindsay said, tugging Danny away from Robert, "This one."

Danny turned to see where she was looking, the opposite side of the hill.

He blinked. It was a steep, steep curve that rolled out into the next hill. _At least we'll be able to stop, _Danny thought, and set the sled down on the snow.

Lindsay hesitantly sat herself down at the front of the sled.

"Chicken, Montana?" Danny asked with a grin as he sat down behind her.

"Are you?" She asked, turning her head to look at him.

He scooted further against her, mashing her body to the front of the sled. "'Course not," he retorted, and wrapped his arms around her so he could take the rope.

"OK," Lindsay said, taking a deep breath, and Danny smiled. He took great amusement in the fact that the little Montana girl who was always so daring was unsettled by the hill seemingly more than he was.

As if reading his thoughts, she spoke. "Being scared is the best part," she told him, closing her hands over his on the rope, "It makes it all the more worth it when you start to have fun."

Before Danny could agree, she'd scooted them forwards with her feet, and they were flying down the side of the hill, the wind roaring and whipping in their ears.

Lindsay shrieked in happiness as she reflexively tightened her grip on Danny's arms. Danny grinned widely, feeling the near-weightless sensation in his stomach as they whipped along, the sled scraping loudly on the icy snow.

They slowed to a stop as the sled headed up the side of a hill. The sled seemed to pause for a moment, then skidded backwards a foot or so, and tipped Lindsay and Danny onto the steep edge of the second hill.

"Fuck!" Danny yelped, leaping up off of the snow.

"What?" Lindsay asked, brushing snow out of her hair. She couldn't contain her grin as Danny started to leap back and forth, shaking his jacket and wiggling and shouting obscenities.

"Fucking snow down my shirt!"

Lindsay burst into laughter, falling backwards onto the snow. The sound of her laugh echoed across the clearing, bouncing off the hills.

"I'm glad you think it's so funny," Danny said dryly.

Lindsay struggled to her feet and walked over to him. She ripped off her glove, still giggling, and reached down his shirt. Her hand slid across his chilled skin, and closed around a small ball of ice that was melting against the skin between his shoulder blades.

She pulled it out, inspected it for a moment, then smashed it onto the top of Danny's head.

Danny roared in surprise as Lindsay, laughing like crazy, raced off towards the first hill.

"You two-faced little…." Danny shouted, scooping up some snow and Lindsay's discarded glove, and raced after her. He launched the snowball at her retreating back, and grinned victoriously when it neatly slammed into the small of her back, leaving a star-like pattern of white snow.

She stumbled as she was running, and turned around in surprise. "You jerk!" she shouted, and scooped up her own snowball. Before she could throw it, another snowball hit her squarely in the chest. She launched the snowball in her hand at him, and leaped over the top of the hill towards her father.

"Daddy!" she shouted playfully, "He's fighting with me!"

Robert grinned and continued teaching Celia how to play a hand game. Lindsay flew towards him, her hair flying out behind her from under her hat, and cowered behind him as Danny appeared around the side of the large hill.

"That ain't fair!" Danny shouted to her, "No safety zones!"

Lindsay laughed. "I never said this was a safety zone! You're just afraid your aim is too bad and you'll hit Celia!"

"Yeah, so?" Danny shouted back as he approached.

Lindsay assumed he would walk around her or maybe go back and get the toboggan, but he walked straight to her, pulled her from Robert, and tackled her to the ground, right on top of a snowdrift. As she sank into the snow, she shrieked at the cold water seeping into her bright red hat, and laughed as Danny started to tickle her.

After a few minutes of torture, Danny stood up and brushed his hands off, leaving a still-giggling Lindsay lying in the center of a snowdrift.

"That'll teach you," Danny said, and offered her a hand.

He knew he'd made a mistake when she grinned wickedly, took his hand, and pulled him back into the snow. Face first.

He stood up, spluttering, and shouted, "I'll get you for that, Monroe!" He then proceeded to chase her back to the house, racing after the bright red had that stood out in the snow.

* * *

"I just don't want you in the same room at night," Betty hissed, "You are unmarried. It's sinful."

"It is not _sinful_, mother," Lindsay said back, glaring, yet trying to keep from shouting. "And the truth is, we have a child together. Whatever you're trying to prevent has already happened."

"This is my house," Betty said proudly, "And I make the rules. And while you are staying in my house, Lindsay, you will follow those rules."

Lindsay was shaking with anger, barely able to control herself. "I don't have to be in your house, mother," she said through gritted teeth, "However, you invited me to your house, and made me come and stay in your house. So if I want to have s-"

"Do not _use _that word, Lindsay!" Betty said shrilly.

Lindsay gave a gruff shout of aggravation, turned on her heel, and left Betty spluttering, "We're not done here!" behind her.

Lindsay stomped to her bedroom, searching around for Danny. She found only Celia, curled up in the crib, sucking on her fist.

After gently touching her daughter's cheek, Lindsay headed into the sewing room, where Danny had been on his laptop earlier. After checking briefly in the living room downstairs, and knocking on the bathroom doors, she concluded that Danny was outside.

She hurriedly pulled on her coat, not bothering to fasten the buttons or put on a hat, and raced outside. The snowflakes that stuck to her tear tracks seemed to burn all the more.

She finally found him in the barn, where he was piling chopped wood with his back to her. She slammed the barn door shut, and Danny stood up and turned to her.

"Check it out," he said with a grin, "I'm practically a lumberjack." He waved his hand to the pile of lumber, and the axe in the corner.

Lindsay launched herself at him, crying as she kissed him passionately.

Danny stumbled backwards before catching himself, and leaned into the kiss. He backed her up against the wall of the small barn, which housed no more than an old car, some tools, and a few projects that Lindsay's father had been working on.

"Let's go to the loft," Lindsay said softly as Danny pulled away and started clearing off her tears with the back of his hand.

"What's the matter?" Danny asked quietly.

Lindsay shook her head and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the small ladder that was leaning against the side of the loft. She climbed up first, clambering onto the assorted large tarps and blankets that her father kept up there.

Danny followed her up, getting an ample view of what Lindsay had on under her skirt, the black underwear visible through the sheerness of her tights.

Lindsay shivered as she rolled onto her back on one of the crinkly tarps. Danny removed his jacket and spread it out over the blue tarp, then helped Lindsay lay back against it before settling himself over her body.

He kissed her slowly, hoping that all she needed was a little makeout session before she could go back to face her parents, yet she proved him wrong. It was only a matter of minutes before Lindsay slipped her hand into his pants and started to slowly stroke him.

Letting out a short, strangled groan, he let his own hand drift up her dress to the place between her legs, and started to grind his palm into her center. Lindsay moaned softly, then pulled him in deeper to the kiss.

"I need you now," she managed to whisper, hastily undoing the fly on his jeans. He helped her before pulling her tights and panties down off of her legs.

"You warm enough?" he asked as he set the tights aside.

She nodded and wrapped one hand around his cock, and guided it into herself. She let out a sigh of relief as he entered her.

Danny placed his arms under her back, holding her as he leisurely thrust into her body. They rocked together, finding a rhythm and moving closer to each other with each pulse of their pleasure.

They took their time, enjoying each other and taking the time to stop and kiss deeply before picking up the pace again.

When they did, at last, come, it was nothing more than a sigh on her part, and a quick grunt on his. This time, for them, it was just about the togetherness.

Afterwards, they lay in each others arms, with Lindsay softly threading her hands through his short hair, twirling it under her fingertips.

"We're almost done," he promised, his breath warm on her collarbone.

"I know," she sighed, "I just wish we hadn't come here."

Danny rested quietly against her chest before speaking up. "They love each other. And they love you. Even if they're not so good at it. That means something, Linds, it does. And you gotta appreciate that while you have it."

Lindsay nodded, her hand pausing on his hair.

"Why'd you stop?" Danny asked sleepily.

Lindsay smiled briefly. "You like that?"

"You were putting me to sleep," he murmured, "it was nice."

She hummed a laugh and resumed stroking his hair, until she had to wake him up and help him carry wood into the house for the fireplace.

* * *

Danny walked to the kitchen later that night, wiping sleep from his eyes. He glanced out at the window in the living room as he passed through it. The field outside was black as ink, but for the tiny sliver of moon in the sky that hit just barely on the tips of the trees. There were times (though they were few) where he understood Lindsay's love for Montana. It was hard to leave a memory completely; there was always something that brings you back. Although she saw the ghosts of her friends in the corners of the house, and standing in the shadows, she still saw the pebbly mountains' beauty and the splendor of the streams and rivers.

Now, though, it was just darkness.

And Lindsay needed a glass of water.

He stepped into the kitchen and found, immediately, that he was not alone.

Lindsay's father sat quietly at the large wooden kitchen table, his hand tapping on the dark, worn wood, tracing the grain. But it was the other hand that held Danny's attention, as held between two fingers and a scarred thumb was a bottle of pills, nearly half empty. Danny noted the white, oval pills, and barely could make out the heavy black letters spelling Vicodin on the side of the bottle.

Robert looked up at the sound of the door squeaking, and Danny's shuffling footsteps. His eyes fixed on Danny's, and he quietly set the orange pill bottle on the table and folded his hands.

Danny walked past the table and got a cup from the cupboard. He filled it with water, feeling Robert's quiet nervousness behind him. He walked over to the table and set the water down before taking a seat.

He waited until Robert started to talk, opting to lean back against the chair with his eyes fixed on the pill bottle, glaringly neon. Theories bounced through Danny's head. Was the man a drug addict? Or was this someone else's bottle? He glanced up at Robert and waited for a logical explanation.

Robert cleared his throat and adjusted his stocky body in the hard wooden seat he was perched on.

"About a month ago," he said, "I went into Doc Everett's clinic, over in Bozeman. He was a good buddy of mine from when I used to do construction around here. I was having some trouble breathing, and I wanted to see if I had some kind of persistent cold or something of the sort." Robert took a shaky breath and picked up the pill bottle again. He spun it a little in his hands, flicking the protruding label with his thumb.

Danny nodded, urging Robert to continue. "What did he say?" Danny asked.

"He ran some tests," Robert sighed, "Told me not to worry, and sent me home. A week later, I get a call. I got idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis."

Danny watched him silently, waiting for him to go on.

"My lungs are going," Robert said quietly, "I don't have much more time." He rolled the bottle in his hand, and looked down at the label with a pensive look on his face. "The meds make it a little easier."

"Are you in pain?" Danny asked, crossing his arms on the table and bending forwards.

Robert shook his head. "Breathing gets pretty hard. Like something's got a hold of my chest. It doesn't feel good, I guess, but I could take it. But the meds … well, Doc gave me some of them when I broke a rib a few years back. I've been gettin' my prescription filled now and again. Doc knows what I got. He's real nice about it."

Danny nodded and looked at the glass of water he'd filled for Lindsay silently. He took in a deep breath and turned to Robert. "Have you thought about telling them?"

Robert shook his head. "I don't want to be a bother."

"You won't be," Danny said, "They love you. Honestly, they do. Your wife is deeply in love with you, and Lindsay is crazy about you. I don't know Eric so much, but from what I can tell he loves you, too. You're never a burden to the people you love."

"I can't tell them," Robert said, "I can't do that. It'll break Betty's heart."

"It'll break more if you pass on and you never told her," Danny said, "You can't keep 'em in the dark. None of them."

Robert nodded. "I'll tell them. I just gotta work my way up to it."

Danny leaned forwards and raised an arm up to his elbow, resting his chin in his upturned hand.

"I… uh, wanted to say something to you, too," Robert said.

Danny nodded.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm glad you and Lindsay are together. Before, when you were treating her like a pile of shit, running around and cheating on her –"

Danny winced.

"Well, then I thought you were just like the other guys she's dated. No good."

Danny cocked an eyebrow in surprise. He'd rarely heard Lindsay mention her other boyfriends. Not that he wanted to hear that sort of thing, but if someone was due for a beating then Danny was glad to give it.

"But now I see that you do love her. And you treat her fine. Better than fine, most of the time. So I'm glad you stuck around."

Danny grinned. "Me, too," he said.

"Now, don't get me wrong," Robert said, "If you shirk any of your responsibilities with my girl, I don't mind killing you."

"Understood," Danny said with a nod, "Completely understood."

"All right then, it's settled," Robert said, standing and picking up the pill bottle. He brought it to the cupboard and put it away. "Goodnight, then," he said to Danny, and headed off upstairs to his and Betty's bedroom.

Danny sighed and stood up, grabbing the water he'd poured for Lindsay. He headed back into her room, shutting the door behind him with a click, and sat down on the side of the bed. "Linds," he whispered, "You still want that water?"

She nodded tiredly and struggled up to her elbows. Danny helped her take a sip, then set the glass beside the bed, on the floor.

Danny stood to leave, when Lindsay grabbed his hand and, with surprising strength, pulled him back to bed with her. He smiled as he slid under the covers and pulled her sleep-warmed body against his.

"Where do you think you were going?" Lindsay asked with a small smile.

Danny traced her lips with the tip of his finger.

She wiggled her nose at the ticklish sensation and smashed her face into his chest to avoid his tickling.

"I was just thinkin' I would sleep in the sewing room like your mother asked. You wouldn't notice; you were asleep."

"I would too," she said sleepily, "I notice when you aren't here."

"Is that so," Danny chuckled softly.

"I dream happier when you're here," she said. Her voice was coated in sleep, almost as if she was saying every thought that came into her head.

"Good," Danny said, pulling her into his body. He wrapped her into a tight hug, which she adjusted herself in and laughed softly. "Then I'll stay," he said.


	25. Chapter 25

**OK it was late when I wrote most of this, and my descriptions really went crazy in this one. If I go psycho-girl faux-poetic on you guys, I'm sorry.**

* * *

"You're my baby, did you know that?" Danny said conversationally, powdering Celia's bottom with baby powder. He sat back on his heels as he continued to change her diaper.

Celia let out a cute little squeal as Danny set her bottom down onto the clean, fresh diaper.

"I don't mean that you're my kid, even though you are," Danny continued, "I just mean that you're my baby."

Celia blinked and looked up at him as he paused in changing her diaper to shove the dirty diaper into the trashcan. She tried to put her fist into her mouth, but Danny nudged it away with his wrist and cleaned his own and then Celia's hands with baby wipes.

"All I'm sayin', CC, is that you're my baby. You're too small to be listenin' to all that crap goin' on downstairs, so if you hear me yelling, or if your grandma kicks me out of the house after I do this, then I want you to remember that you're my baby, and that nothin' they say matters. You're my baby, and this is for you and your mommy."

He ripped the paper off of the tabs on the diaper with a sticky crackling, then easily stuck them to the front of the diaper.

"How's that, baby, you feel better?" Danny asked, placing his hands on her chubby little stomach and lifting her off of the blanket on the floor. "A clean diaper, huh? I bet that feels good."

He sat her down on her bottom to his side, then messily scrunched up the blanket he'd been changing her on and tossed it into the basket of dirty clothes sitting in the corner of the sewing room. Lindsay would be home from a short hike with her father.

"You ready for this?" he asked nervously. He glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall, above the broken-down rocking chair. He grabbed a light purple onesie with a picture of a dog embroidered on the front and unsnapped it. He slid Celia into it, pulling her arms through the sleeves and snapping the bottom around her legs.

He lifted her up and set her on his hip, then headed down the dark mahogany stairs. He walked hesitantly into the living room, where Betty was sitting on an overstuffed white couch, working on a large needlepoint.

"Uh, Mrs. Monroe?" he asked, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Betty looked up, her large cat-eyed glasses slipping down her nose until they caught at the tip. "Yes," she said, frowning.

Danny sat down on the chair facing her, jiggling Celia on his knee to distract the baby. He cleared his throat and looked out at the window at the light snow that was falling from the sky.

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you about Lindsay," he said nervously.

"What about her?" Betty asked, wrinkling her nose and tilting her head so that her glasses slipped back up onto her face. She turned back to her needlepoint and continued to push the needle into a little square.

"She's been under a lotta stress lately," Danny said, brushing a lock of Celia's hair behind her ear. He twirled one of the soft curls in his finger as Celia looked around the room with her wide, blue eyes.

"Well, she has a lot to worry about," Betty said with a slight shrug, "Every new mother does. Especially a single mother."

Danny pursed his lips and looked longingly out the window, wishing that he were anywhere but the stuffy living room. He pulled Celia further back onto his lap, settling her against his chest. He rested his hand against her little stomach and leaned back in the chair. "She isn't a single mother, Mrs. Monroe, she's got me."

Betty gave a small, quiet, amused laugh. "Oh, Danny, she fits the definition, doesn't she? A woman raising her child without a husband."

"We're engaged, Mrs. Monroe, and we live –"

"That engagement won't last long, though," Betty said with a small smile, "It's not like your history with my daughter has been stable."

Danny held in the angry tone that bubbled up in his chest, a constricting shout. He swallowed and spoke in a quiet, though dangerous voice. "The engagement will last until the we get married. It's stable as stable gets, Mrs. Monroe."

Betty looked at Danny with wide-eyed surprise that held a touch of patronization.

"Your daughter and I are getting married. That's not gonna change. What will change," Danny said firmly, "Is the stress you've been giving her. She's got a hell of a lot of pressure at work, and the baby's been having health problems, and to top it all off she's been having body issues."

"Most women have –" Betty started condescendingly, when Danny cut her off.

"She's anemic, and she's not eating right. I'm doing what I can, but half of it is stuff I can't control. I need you to lay off her until she gets better," Danny snapped, "I'm fine with you complainin' about me, and what I done to her in the past, but the second you jump on her again, you're done."

Betty stared openmouthed at Danny, her needlepoint laying flat on her lap.

He stood, set Celia on his hip, and walked into the kitchen. "What you think of _that?_" he asked Celia.

* * *

Lindsay skipped happily ahead of her father, eyeing the various plants along the path and taking great pride in her ability to identify them. She turned around to her father, who was lagging behind with a walking stick, taking his time and admiring the natural beauty of the elegant stream to his left.

"So, birdie-girl, how is motherhood treating you?" Robert asked with a smile.

"It's amazing," Lindsay said in a giddy, excited voice. "She's … just … I …" she laughed happily.

"I can see you're liking it."

"I love it," Lindsay laughed. "It's hard, but I do love it."

She squinted up ahead at the sunlight that was fading from the nature around them. "It's so beautiful out here," she sighed happily.

"It is," Robert said in his quiet, gruff voice. He looked around at the world around them, and turned to his daughter. The sun streamed through her hair, making it appear golden in the fading light. He smiled at her, marveling at how far she'd come from the little girl who used to build forts out of cardboard boxes. "Lindsay, we have to talk about something," he said with a soft smile.

* * *

Another tear trickled from Lindsay's eye, following the wet trail of the others before it: slipping down over her cheek, dripping down over her ear, and dropping at last onto Danny's sweats. The salty, warm tear sank into the fabric, dampening his skin.

He moved his hand again on her hair, brushing the soft curls back. The hair was impossibly smooth to his hand after hours of soothing her.

Celia, lying on Danny's other side, rolled onto her stomach and sighed softly.

Danny moved his hand from Lindsay's head, which was resting on his lap, and carefully, with both hands, turned Lindsay over onto her back again.

Celia gave a quiet grunt of complaint and flopped her tiny hand onto her stomach. Danny reached over and clasped her whole hand in his. He could contain her entire hand in his fist. He rubbed her little palm with his thumb.

His other hand, he returned to Lindsay's hair and brushed her hair back in the same soothing pattern he had been using for the past hour.

Lindsay opened her mouth to speak, but all that left her mouth was a strangled whimper.

"It's OK," Danny soothed, running his hand over her cheek to brush away her tears.

A fresh wave of emotion rolled through Lindsay's body. She turned over onto her side, facing Danny's chest, and buried her head in the fabric of his shirt. She held the edges of his shirt to her eyes, wetting the fabric as she shook silently with sobs.

"I know, I know," Danny soothed. He carefully extracted his hand from Celia's and slid it under Lindsay's body. He lifted her up to sit her on his lap and curled her into his body. She lifted her head and stared into his eyes as tears trickled from her eyes. She opened her mouth, trying to speak to him.

Finally, she managed to get the words out.

"I don't want him to die," she sobbed quietly, "He's my daddy. Why does he have to die?"

Danny leaned forwards and softly kissed her cheek, just under her eye, where a tear was perched precariously. "I know you don't, honey. I know you love him."

"Why didn't he tell me?" she asked, her voice shaking so much that he could barely understand her.

"He was scared," Danny said gently, brushing back her hair, "He didn't want to admit it to himself, maybe, so he kept it a secret. But most of all, he loves you and he doesn't want to worry you."

"He won't worry me!" she sobbed, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve. She reminded Danny of a little kid: irrational, scared, and unsure of the future.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her mid-section and pulled her in tightly, resting one hand on the back of her head to hold her closer to his body. "He thought he was taking care of you, Lindsay. That's it. He loves you so much –"

She let lose a particularly loud sob and tightened her arms around his neck.

"-And he's just taking care of you. You're his daughter; he was just trying to help you."

Lindsay sniffed and rested her head on his shoulder, facing his neck. She was exhausted from crying, and closed her eyes briefly as Danny continued to smooth down her hair.

Danny glanced over at Celia to check on her, smiling as he saw that both of her hands were resting up next to her ears. She looked as though she was stretching up towards the headboard. She sucked in at her pacifier, which dipped delicately in towards her lip with the motion of her sucking.

"We have to stay," Lindsay sniffed tiredly, "With my daddy. I can't leave him."

Danny nodded, although, internally, he was wondering how on earth he was going to convince Mac to let Lindsay and him stay in Montana for an indefinite amount of time.

He smoothed her hair again, then shifted so that she was settled more comfortably in his lap.

"Danny?" she asked sleepily.

"Hmm," he said.

"Will you help me go to sleep?" she asked meekly.

"Why do you need my help?" he asked, shooting a quick glance over to Celia to make sure the baby was alright.

"Because I can't stop thinking about my dad," she sniffed, holding in the fresh wave of tears that she didn't know she had, "And I want to sleep."

Danny nodded and bent his lips down to her neck, kissing it softly. He moved his mouth slowly, kissing her skin and letting the warm breath from his nose travel over her neck. He started to suck on her neck slowly, moving his lips up her neck to her ear. He moved one hand from her lower back to her ear, and tucked a bit of hair behind it to reveal the skin.

He knew what sort of things relaxed her, and sucked languidly on her earlobe. He teased it with his warm tongue, biting gently, almost ticklish, on the edge of her lobe. It was only barely sensual, more gentle and soothing.

He felt her relax against him, heard her breathing deepen.

He slowed his motions and wound up sucking gently on her earlobe while he smoothed her hair and held her to his body. His warm skin, mouth, and hands eased her into a deep sleep.

Once he was sure that she was completely asleep, Danny carefully settled her into bed, then placed Celia into the crib. He slipped under the covers behind Lindsay and wrapped his arms around her stomach.

* * *

Lindsay stepped out of the bedroom, her eyes puffy and dry. Her throat was sore from having swallowed and then released numerous waves of tears. She walked quietly down the stairs, keeping her footsteps light on the even steps and hopping quietly over the second-to-last step that she knew would creak.

Lindsay's feet remembered the feel of the smooth, worn wood of the floor. She smiled quietly as memories of sneaking into the kitchen to forage for candy at midnight.

As she headed past the living room, she was distracted by the beauty of the soft moonlight on the trees out the window. She slowed quietly, mesmerized by their gentle branches –

"Lindsay?" Betty said crossly, her voice sounding oddly strangled.

Lindsay whipped around. She slapped her hand to her pounding chest. She squinted at the dark living room, searching out the fuzzy shape on the couch.

"Mom?" she hissed into the dark.

"What on earth are you doing in here?" Betty asked.

"I was just coming in to get a glass of water," she said hoarsely.

"Are you feeling worn out?" Betty said, an edge to her voice, "I hear a lot of movement from your room. Noises."

Lindsay winced. "I was …" she wasn't sure if her father had told Betty about his illness. He'd told Lindsay to keep it quiet until he could let it out to everyone. Moreover, she didn't like letting Betty know that she was crying. She'd always hidden her tears from her mother. Comforting hugs had always been given from her father and her little brother, never her mother.

"Have some decency," Betty snapped. Lindsay suddenly realized that her mother was sitting on the couch, tearing a tissue in her hands. "This is your childhood home. And your father is sick." Betty's voice caught on the last word, almost as if it cut her throat as she forced it out of her mouth.

"I…" Lindsay said quietly.

"Your father is sick," Betty repeated, a little louder.

Lindsay worried briefly that she would wake Danny, who'd sleepily sat up as she left the room, and had to be assured that she would be fine before he would go back to sleep.

"You could at least try to honor his wishes for your life," Betty said, "He wants you to live your life right."

"I am living my life right," she said sleepily, trying hard to articulate at almost two in the morning.

"You need to find someone to take care of you," Betty said with a sniff, "Someone as worthy as your father."

"Danny is a good man," Lindsay said, offended, "He's better than good. And I'm in love with him." She crossed her arms in front of her and frowned at her mother.

"He cheated on you," Betty said cruelly, her voice edged with her own pain as well as anger at Lindsay, "And then you find out that he raped some poor woman on the street-"

"Danny never raped anyone," Lindsay said in confusion, then added in confidence, "He's would never do that. He doesn't treat women that way."

"I think that what happened a few weeks ago begs to differ," Betty said harshly, the fierce breathiness in her voice echoing through the room.

"That was a misunder –" Lindsay stopped, and frowned in confusion. "How do you know about that?" she asked.

"It…was in the newspapers," Betty fumbled.

"No it wasn't," Lindsay returned, "It was never released to the press. The woman was clearly high, and several witnesses had her buying heroin. Her evidence never would have held up. But why am I telling you this?" She shook her head in disbelief. "How did you know?"

"Your friends told me."

"They wouldn't. The case was confidential."

"I … I …"

"You knew…" Lindsay said quietly, "Because you had something to do with it."

"He's still wrong for you. No matter what he did or didn't do. He is the wrong person for you."

"He's my best friend," Lindsay said softly, yet strongly, "And he's the right person for me. And that's all that matters." She turned on her heel and walked up the stairs again, feeling hollow. She stumbled on the last steps, unable to control her body.

Suddenly, two arms slipped under hers and pulled her upright.

She and Danny stared at each other for a moment. Danny pulled her to her feet, his eyes locked on hers.

At the look on Lindsay's pained expression, Danny simply took her hand and followed her into the bedroom. She knew he'd heard. He knew she knew. So they curled up next to each other in Lindsay's childhood bed and held each other tightly until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

Flack's cell phone buzzed softly. The sound echoed through the bright apartment, bouncing off the light blue walls. It was dark outside, the only light being the moonlight that glistened palely into the apartment. Stars twinkled in the sky, and the low rush of the city was audible through the open window.

At the buzzing sound, Don Flack awoke with a start. He looked around, specifically to the arm that he'd been using as a pillow. It was his own, yet it was completely devoid of feeling. He glanced up, following the arm to where it was hooked to the headboard, handcuffed to his other hand.

He frowned, and glanced down at his chest, where he could see the light brown hair that was splayed across his chest.

"Hey," he hissed, "Meg."

The warm body groaned and wiggled further into his body. He nudged his lower body up at her, trying to shake her out of sleep.

"Meg!" Flack hissed, "Get me out of these cuffs. My phone is ringing."

The woman on his chest slowly sat up, sweeping her hair off of her face. She blinked a few times, and stretched, straddling the dark haired detective. She yawned and looked down at the body below her.

"Oh. Hi," she said, straightening her bright red baby doll nightie. "What did you need?" she asked tiredly.

"I need to get out of these cuffs," he hissed, "My phone –" The phone stopped buzzing, then beeped noisily to indicate that Don had a missed call. "Shit," he muttered.

"So you woke me up for nothing?" Meg asked with a pout.

Don snorted. "No, my arms are dead. Get me out of these things."

"You're going to have to earn that," Meg said with a shrug.

Don grinned as she bent down to kiss him.

Nearly an hour later, Flack managed to pick up the phone with a limp and slightly numb hand. He cursed under his breath as he saw the four missed calls from Danny, and quickly dialed his friend's number.

"Yo, Danno, what's up?" he asked hurriedly, "Is everything alright? Celia and Lindsay OK?"

"_What? Yeah, they're fine."_

Flack breathed a sigh of relief. "So, what's the big deal? Why you callin' me?"

"_I was just wantin' to know if you could pick us up at the airport today, not tomorrow."_

"Earlier flight?"

"_Yeah."_

"Can't take the in-laws?"

"_Somethin' like that," _Danny said with a sigh.

"Yeah, I'll pick you guys up. What time?"

"_It'll be like eight o'clock tonight, probably. See ya then?"_

"Yeah, sure," Flack said. He glanced up and was momentarily distracted by the sight of Meg, holding her towel around her body and shaking her wet hair to get the water out of it. She gave him a small smirk, and, as soon as he set the phone on the bed, pounced.

* * *

Lindsay leaned back on Danny's hand, which was pushing her towards her mother as he whispered harshly in her ear, "Come on, just get it over with, just a little quick hug…"

She stared down her mother, who was frowning in confusion at Lindsay, who was shuffling towards her at the rate of molasses. Finally, Lindsay reached her mother, stiffly wrapped her arms around her, and almost winced as Betty wrapped her arms around Lindsay's body.

Suddenly, an idea struck Lindsay, and as a wide smile split her face, she bent in towards her mother and whispered in a sugary sweet voice, "If you mess with my family ever again, I will never, ever speak to you again."

She broke away to find that her mother's smile seemed to have fractured, and she was staring at Lindsay with a hollow, empty smile. Lindsay turned on her heel, picked up her bag, and walked to the car with Danny staring after her in confusion. He picked up Celia's plastic carrier, then the duffel bag, and headed on after her.

"See ya around, Mrs. Monroe," he said. He dumped the duffel in the truck bed and crawled into the backseat of the car to strap Celia's carrier into the seat. Lindsay climbed into the driver's seat next to her father and started the truck. She zoomed off towards the airport, leaving her mother a cloud of powdery snow in her wake.

* * *

"Lindsay," Robert said gently, "Girlie, you're gonna miss your flight."

Lindsay shook her head into his neck, clutching him tightly. "No," she said, tears dripping from her eyes.

"Lindsay, come on, girlie. It's time to go."

"No, Daddy," she cried.

"Honey," he said, patting her back, "You have to get home."

Lindsay felt Danny's hand on her back, rubbing it gently. She sniffed and straightened, leaning back on Danny's hand.

Danny shook Robert's hand again and took Lindsay's hand as the two walked towards the security gate, leaving Robert standing behind them. Lindsay turned around, watching Robert give a quick, shy wave to her as she headed towards the security gate.

On the plane, she took three trips to the bathroom to quickly cry before Danny realized what she was doing, and followed her in the tiny stall where she bent over the sink and sobbed into it. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and held her while she cried.


	26. Chapter 26

**Just letting you all know: there's lots of crying in this chapter. I'm sorry it's short, and I'm sorry I'm so lazy on this site - I have lots of crap going on in real life right now. **

**Also, sorry it's been a while. I promised some of you I'd get back on this sooner! I'm getting to an end on this. I'm thinking one or two more chapters.**

* * *

Lindsay sat down in chair and let out a sob. The house was dark. She'd fought with Danny for almost an hour, screaming at him about how he hadn't bought milk on his most recent trip to the grocery store. She'd screamed so loud and for so long that her throat stung.

Since she'd found out about her father, she'd been periodically attacked by bursts of anger, depression, and then a sickening, all-encompassing homesickness. She'd been getting headaches as well, and every call home ended in her walling herself into the bathroom and sitting, stunned, on the edge of her bathtub.

People's father's died often. Women not much older than her had fathers die of old age. Children younger than her grew up without fathers.

But, like with most tragedies, her own felt so much worse. She couldn't fathom any worse feeling – it was as though a terrible pool of acid was slowly burning through her body because – for God's sake – it was her _daddy _that was hurting, the one that gave her a name, and told her stories, and gave her her first buck knife and a fishing rod and held her hand on the first day of school.

How could someone who gave her so much slip out of her life?

She bit back her next sob, trying to keep from waking the baby. Danny had gone out to get the "goddamn milk," as he'd put it.

The truth was that she'd just wanted him out of the house. The sun had set in his absence – enough time for the apartment to fade into darkness, leaving Lindsay sitting on a chair in the middle of the living room.

The door clicked open, startling her. She stood quickly, but was torn between locking herself into the bathroom to clean up, racing into the bedroom to pretend to be asleep, or wiping her eyes and hurrying to do something around the apartment.

That was how Danny caught her – standing beside the couch with her shirt wrinkled and wet with snot and tears, twisting her hands in a tissue, tears still dripping from her eyes, lost.

Their eyes caught. Lindsay coughed and sniffed.

Danny set the bag of milk he had in his hand and set it on the table with his keys and wallet, and walked over to her. He held out his arms and wrapped them around Lindsay.

Lindsay leaned into his arms, then sagged into his embrace.

Danny sat down on the couch with Lindsay in his hug.

Lindsay paused for a moment in his embrace, but abruptly stood and walked away.

"Lindsay, come on," Danny snapped, standing up, "I'm trying to help."

"I don't want help," she sniffed, glaring at him. She stomped away with her back to him.

"Fuck, Lindsay! This is ridiculous!" Danny exclaimed.

"Don't like it?" she asked, whipping around, "Leave."

Danny clenched his teeth and glared back at her, refusing to move from his spot. He crossed his arms, a defiant gesture.

"No, get out," Lindsay said, pointing towards the door. "You obviously don't want to be here."

"I'm not leaving," Danny snorted.

"Why not? You've done it before," Lindsay scoffed.

"And I'm never doing it again," Danny said simply.

He wasn't prepared when Lindsay let out a pained sob and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He stumbled back in surprise, then wrapped his arms around her waist.

Lindsay cried and cried, unable to even articulate why she was sobbing. Somewhere along the line of her choked, struggling cries, he bent down, crossed his arms under her butt, and hoisted her up. He walked her into the bedroom and sat with his back to the headboard.

"I get it," he said quietly.

She could not stop crying, but lowered the sounds of her sobs to hear his voice, breathy and warm on her ear.

"I know it's your dad, Linds," he said. He rubbed her back with his thumb, up and down in soothing strokes.

She sniffed loudly, swallowed a sob, and nudged her knees further forwards on either side of his lap, bringing her closer to his torso. She buried her nose in his shirt, at the corner of his collar and his shoulder.

"I know you can't decide if you should go out there and do something for him or start mourning him already," Danny said in his soothing, gruff voice.

Lindsay gave a little hiccup at the emotions and pain he'd stirred up in the pit of her stomach.

"That's probably why, I'm guessing, you've been all back and forth these past few days we've been back," Danny said, "And you're takin' it out on me. But it's OK, a'right Linds? I can take it. I know you don't really mean it. So if you wanna take out some anger on me or whatever, that's cool. If you wanna hit something, I'll take you to the gym and we can mess around with the punching bag there. I'll be here for whatever you need me, OK?"

Lindsay nodded and nudged her foot out from under her thigh, where it was falling asleep. She rested her forehead on Danny's broad shoulder and took a few deep breaths, attempting to clear the heavy pressure of the tears in her head. She looked up at Danny, searching his eyes, and swallowed.

"I'm sorry," she said thickly.

"It's OK, Montana," Danny said slowly, brushing back her hair. "Now, look, unless you wanna yell at me some more, I'm gonna go put the milk away and climb into bed with you."

Lindsay managed a watery smile and shook her head. She moved off of Danny's lap so he could get up and smiled when he kissed the top of her head.

* * *

Danny jammed another quarter into the vending machine and watched as the coffee splattered into the little paper cup he'd placed in the machine. The stuff tasted like ash, but he wasn't going to complain. Two hours to go on a grueling shift seemed like days.

He walked out of the little kitchenette area and into his office, just down the hall. He set the coffee on his desk and pulled his files toward him. He'd only started filling out the date on the first form when Flack knocked on the wall with a slap of his hand and leaned into the office.

"We gotta go. The older brother of that kid who died last week is downstairs with a gun."

"What?" Danny asked in disbelief.

"Get up," Don said, tossing him one of the bulletproof jackets he had in his right hand.

Danny pulled it on and adjusted the Velcro straps as he stumbled after Don. He barely remembered the case – he hadn't processed the scene: Lindsay and Hawkes had. He'd run some tests on a broken lamp found in the hotel room, but that was about it.

"What's he got a gun for?" Danny asked.

"He's saying we gave up on the case," Don responded, swinging open the door to the staircase and quickly jogging down them, Danny at his heels.

"Where's Stella? Maybe she or Hawkes can talk to this kid."

"Harlem. She and Hawkes are both out. Mac's coming in from Brooklyn, says you can buy some time. Linds is down there already."

"She's _what?" _Danny snapped, stopping on the stairs.

"She's down there," Don yelled behind him, "C'mon, Messer, hurry it up!"

Danny, filled with renewed vigor, raced down the steps after Don, hastily unsnapping his gun from his holster.

"Why aren't we taking the elevator?" he asked angrily, feeling a tight strain in his calf.

"It's shut off," Don responded, "Kid says he put a bomb in the building. Thompson's in charge; he says there's probably no way the kid had the planning to do that, but he shut off the elevators and gas anyways. Fire alarms are on on the other floors."

Danny, straining his ears, could hear the faint bleating of the fire alarm in the distance, coming closer and closer as they sped down the steps past one of the ringing alarms.

* * *

Lindsay raised her head to look at the stunned-looking young boy with the thick, coke-bottle glasses sitting heavily on his nose. "Stop!" the kid shouted hoarsely, "Stop moving!" The kid was speaking with a heavy snuffle to his voice, as his nose was dripping a steady stream of blood. The blood was soaking into his shirt, puffed out around the bulletproof vest that he was wearing.

Earlier, the security guard at the front entrance to the building had attempted to tackle him to the ground, succeeding in only getting shot in the shoulder while smacking the kid's face against the wall.

"I said no MOVING!" the kid shouted, pointing his gun at the small crowd of people which contained Lindsay.

"S-sorry," a young woman next to Lindsay stuttered. Lindsay recognized her as a secretary who had worked with Gerrard, and now for Gillian Whitmore.

"Dima?" Lindsay asked the woman softly, the name sprouting up in her memory.

The dark haired woman turned and caught Lindsay's gaze. She nodded, her lower lip quivering.

"I'm Lindsay," Lindsay responded in a whisper, "You helped me find files on Natalie Gerrard?"

Dima nodded quickly and clutched her bright red purse to her chest. "You're a CSI, right?" she asked in a voice that Lindsay could barely hear.

Lindsay whispered a quick, "Yeah."

"So don't you have a gun?" Dima asked.

Lindsay nodded. "On my belt," she whispered, "But I don't want to spook him."

She nudged her way slowly to the front of the crowd, which consisted of three people: Dima, an elderly man who worked as a janitor on one of the floors, and a jumpy looking businessman who was watching the gun with wide eyes, biting his short nails.

Lindsay took a deep breath and tried feebly to recall all of the training she'd had in hostage negotiations. Her mind seemed to be completely devoid of part of it.

"Um, sir, my name is Lindsay Monroe and I'm a CSI here," she started, gaining momentum and strength in her voice as the kid turned to her, his eyes glowing with a slight glimmer of hope that someone could pull him out of this mess. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Brian Emerson," the kid said. He swallowed, and Lindsay watched the lump move down his throat, saw his Adam's apple bob.

"Is there a reason you've come here? Something that you need?" Lindsay asked nervously.

The boy blinked and swallowed again. "P-Peter," he stammered, "I came for Peter."

"Does Peter work in this building?" Lindsay asked.

"H-he …" the young kind seemed to remember why he was there, and straightened. The hand holding the gun lifted higher, and, now having someone to direct the pain towards, pointed it straight at Lindsay. The other hand shoved up his coke-bottle glasses. "Peter was murdered last Tuesday."

Lindsay gulped and nodded, her mind racing. What was she to say? She had had training in counseling members of a grieving family, but this degree of violence and projection seemed to be far out of anything she'd learned to deal with. "I'm sorry to hear that, Brian," Lindsay said, her voice strong and sincere.

"No one else is," Brian said with a quick glare that passed violently through his features.

Suddenly, the squeak of a rubber sole echoed throughout the large lobby, which had previously been dead silent but for the sound of Brian and Lindsay's voices and the occasional whimper from one of the twenty or so people scattered around the room.

With a fearful intake of breath, Brian's head snapped up, although his gun remained trained on Lindsay.

Standing in the hallway that led to the larger room were Danny and Flack, each holding a gun pointed at Brian's head.

"I'm gonna have to ask you to put down your weapon, kid," Flack said firmly, as he and Danny took slow, calculated steps towards the young man.

Danny's gaze flicked over to Lindsay, who was watching Peter with determination.

"It's alright, Brian," Lindsay said softly, "It's going to be alright."

Brian's hand quivered, and started to fall.

"We're working on his case, Brian," she continued, watching as the hand holding the gun slowly lowered.

Danny and Flack moved forwards, wary of a change in Brian's demeanor. Their footfalls were quiet on the linoleum floors of the lobby. Danny's eyes continued to flicker over to where Lindsay stood, slightly ahead of the three hostages she'd been standing with. He was terrified that she'd do something rash – he couldn't fathom _what,_ but he knew that the consequences couldn't be good.

"He was my baby brother," Brian said softly, "My baby brother, and I couldn't protect him."

"I know, Brian," Lindsay replied, her voice lowering to a whisper, "Believe me, I know."

A tear slipped from Brian's eye and down his cheek.

"I couldn't protect him then," Brian said. As if taken by some thought, he straightened, and the hand holding the gun raised. "I have to do something for him now," he concluded, and began firing.

Before Lindsay knew what hit her, she was shoved to the ground. She could smell Danny, and knew it was him. She found that Danny was crushing her to the ground so hard that she could barely move, much less get up.

Seeming to notice her discomfort, Danny hooked his arm around her and, slinking his way along the floor over her, dragged her behind the front desk, where the small group of hostages was hiding. He climbed off of her and quickly checked her over with his eyes, noting how she instinctively did the same. They waited until the shooting died down before Lindsay popped up over the top of the desk, and fired off a single round, which caught Brian in the shoulder.

Brain toppled over backwards in a pained arc, his gun dropping from his hand.

Flack hustled over to him, kicked the gun out of the way, and held him down as Lindsay and Danny looked on.

* * *

"Danny, don't _baby _me," Lindsay huffed as Danny chased her around the apartment with a dripping ice pack in his hand.

"I'm not babying you, Montana," he snorted, "I'm just tryin' to fix the damage I did with your head." He tried to corner her when she got to the door to the bedroom, but she ducked under his arm and headed towards the kitchen.

"You got me out of the way, Danny – you didn't _damage _me. I am not an egg. So stop," Lindsay scolded as she opened the fridge.

She let out a shriek as Danny wrapped an arm around her waist and hoisted her up into the air.

She kicked her legs, spluttering, "Danny put me down!" as he shook the moisture off of the coldpack and pressed it to the growing bruise on her forehead. Using his knee, he nudged her up higher on his body as her feet kicked dully on the door of the fridge.

Finally, Lindsay gave up with a laugh and fell limp in his arms. Danny set her down on the floor. She could feel his smile against her neck. "I'll put the icepack on my head, all right?" she giggled, "If it'll ease your bleeding conscience, that is," she harrumphed.

Danny grinned and flattened his hand on the icepack. "Thank you, Montana," he said curtly, and pressed a loud, wet kiss to her ear.

She laughed at him and took over holding the icepack. "You're very welcome, Danny," she said.

* * *

**So... Since I want to update now before I forget, and I also want to thank my reviewers, I'm going to take a leaf out of Laurzz/BEG75's pages and do it on here:**

**Thanks to Berta101, jules4ya, pretty7, Megan, Laurzz, BEG75, javajunkie4evr, prplerayne, Dantanafan, afrozenheart412, jordinajamaica, The Little Corinthian, TAsolo, summergirlforever, and dtd. If I ever remember, I'll actually send you a PM specifically crafted to your review :P (so sorry if I missed anyone... I appreciate you if I did...)**


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